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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359692">Tear Down These Walls for Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ali_aliska/pseuds/ali_aliska'>ali_aliska</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Confinement, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Generic Hydra Villains, Happy Ending, Huddling For Warmth, Hunger and Injuries, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes &amp; Tony Stark Friendship, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Appearances by Other MCU Characters - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Self-sacrificing Idiots Alert, developing feelings, mentions of torture, not team Cap friendly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:53:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ali_aliska/pseuds/ali_aliska</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was mostly embarrassing, really, to be snatched off the streets by Hydra’s unwanted leftovers and tossed into a dark, cold cell without so much as a by-your-leave. Tony thought the worst of it would be the mind-numbing boredom while he waited for days for his chance to escape, or the stale, gray mush these goons dared call “food”…</p><p>…or the guards tossing an unconscious, beaten body right into Tony’s own cell two days later and Tony realizing it belonged to the very same Winter Soldier Tony hadn't seen since their fight in Siberia.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Marvel Trumps Hate 2019</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeythroughtherain/gifts">journeythroughtherain</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written as part of Marvel Trumps Hate 2019 for the lovely journeythroughtherain. Thank you so much for your patience as I promised this fic in December and then worked my way through writer’s block, long work hours, and the world going to hell in a handbasket (I do hope all of you are hanging tough and staying safe out there), but we finally made it!</p><p>Jo, I hope you enjoy this standard dose of Winteriron nonsense, and I hope the rest of you do too!</p><p><b>Standard warnings may apply:</b> this is set post-CACW and it is <i>me</i>, so this fic is salty, but it’s somewhere between “artisanal sprinkle for flavor” and “there goes the whole salt pail, whoops”, and none of the Rogues make an appearance. Mind the tags for everything else - nothing is explicit and the violence is no worse than we see in canon, but there are discussions of torture, starvation, and injuries, as one would expect whenever kidnappings and generic Hydra villains are involved.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boredom had to be the worst part of this whole thing and Tony wasn’t sure whether to consider himself lucky in that regard, that the initial bruises have had time to heal, that he’d had enough uninterrupted time in this cell to memorize the layout of every brick, every crack, every shadow.</p><p>He kept track of the time using the tiny window carved into the wall, feet above where he could reach on his tiptoes, and those flickers of sunlight were his only indication that the world kept on spinning outside of these walls. He’d spent six days in here, alone, if one ignored the haphazard visits from various guards, and he was certain he lost at least a few extra days to being unconscious before they dumped him in here.</p><p>One surprise blow to the head had that effect on a man.</p><p>Staring at the grime coating the bricks was never <em>fun</em>, but the silence was finally getting to him again, so Tony tried to shift his focus elsewhere. He began muttering to himself, tried to sketch out a schematic in his mind, his fingers following the imaginary lines through the air. He thought about a new reactor model, then tweaks to the watch gauntlet, an engine to make the Quinjets go even faster…</p><p>The details kept slipping though. Slipping and slipping, like sand through his fingers, and his bleary eyes slid back down to the dark shadows coating the other side of the tiny cell. His mind began to fill with familiar low-level static.</p><p>Tony didn’t think they were drugging his food, but between the initial concussion, the meager rations, and the lack of anything to do but wait, it was little wonder his mind was losing its edge.</p><p>He forced himself to look at the locked door. Thick, impenetrable metal that Tony had examined in obsessive detail during his initial days in here in hopes of finding a vulnerability to exploit, but despite the shabby appearance of everything else in here, the only way out was through that surprisingly sturdy door.</p><p>Despite his usual philosophy on life and his penchant for the clever and the subversive, sometimes there truly <em>were</em> problems best solved by punching something until it broke, but Tony was in no position to follow through on that particular method of problem solving today.</p><p>At least the guards were overdue for a visit, hopefully with food this time. Tony would snark, they would sneer right back—or spit and kick in him the ribs once or twice if they were feeling particularly vindictive—and then the excitement would end. Then it’d be silence again, the dim light from the overhead window and Tony’s own breathing left as the only things to disturb the near-empty cell.</p><p>Nothing but the four walls, a bucket to relieve himself, and a pile of dirty blankets to sleep on. The Four Seasons this was not.</p><p>The door offered no tantalizing answers, so Tony decided he’d stared at it long enough. He went back to counting the tiles.</p><p>The boredom wasn’t the worst part, Tony decided. No, the worst part was the fact he’d let this whole debacle happen in the first place.</p><p>Iron Man, snatched right off the street. Grabbed, bagged, and stuffed inside a shady van like a protagonist in the most cliché action movie ever filmed.</p><p>No, not even the protagonist. He was the goddamn damsel in distress.</p><p>It was <em>embarrassing</em> and Rhodey would laugh his ass off once he knew the sordid details.</p><p>Tony knew he hadn’t been at his best when it happened—hadn’t been at his best for a while—but in his defense, the past year hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. Having most of the Avengers bail and leave Tony and others holding the shit-covered bag left little time for rest and relaxation.</p><p>Meetings, committees, constant calls from Ross and his cronies—constant <em>harassment</em>, up to and including some lack-luster death threats—and an endless, uphill battle to get anyone to trust him again after a bunch of his suped-up <em>friends</em> went and trashed half a highway and an entire airport all in the name of <em>protecting the innocents</em>.</p><p>After a lot of hard work, things were finally looking up, but Tony had been running on empty for months, losing his mind to too little sleep and too much guilt, and all he did the day he was captured was selfishly take a few minutes for himself. He told Rhodey he’d find his own way to the summit, then he disconnected from Friday—she was still so young and so chatty and his migraine was <em>killing</em> him—</p><p>He wasn’t surprised the kidnappers got him so easily. He’d become predictable and negligent in his vigilance, visiting that same coffee shop on the corner every morning, too distracted searching for normalcy in a macchiato and a friendly barista smile to notice the shady goons that practically screamed ‘We’re the villains!’ hanging around the nearest corner.</p><p>Tony shook his head. Embarrassing <em>and</em> pathetic, to be sitting here now, pontificating about his poor, troubled life. He fucked up, trusted the wrong people, and got left to clean up the mess. Now he got sloppy, let his guard down, and got kidnapped. Simple as that, end of story. No need for a pity party.</p><p>He rearranged his legs with a quiet groan, the cold floor beneath him digging into his thighs. The initial round of bruises may have healed, but his muscles now ached in new and inventive ways and he swore to himself to take a long, indulgent spa day after all this was over. He’d been kidnapped before, sure, and he’d been held captive in a literal cave where his accommodations were no better than this, but that was a decade ago and his body was a little worse for the wear.</p><p>His dry throat ached too when he swallowed and the migraine still pounded against his temples, made worse by the dehydration and the hunger.</p><p>He promised himself he’d apologize to Rhodey and Friday. What he wouldn’t give to hear his best friend’s snarky remarks or his AI’s over-enthusiastic chatter, to be drowned in paperwork and the minutiae of balancing a company and a superhero compound—anything other than this empty, boring cell—</p><p>The door creaked ominously and Tony nearly jumped out of his skin, startled out of his cloudy thoughts right back to reality.</p><p>“Careful what you wish for, idiot,” he muttered under his breath and watched the door with renewed focus, the fog finally clearing.</p><p>Other than the initial bump to the head and the sort of rough treatment one would expect from shady kidnappers, they hadn’t actually tortured him. They hadn’t drugged him either, but whoever these guys were—and Tony had a sick feeling they were at least Hydra-adjacent, if not outright ‘hail Hydra’ scum of the Earth—there was a good chance they would not keep up this hospitality for much longer.</p><p>There were no restraints on him, but at this point, Tony had no intention of jumping and attacking whoever was at the door. These guys never showed up without an arsenal of guns and fists, and Tony wasn’t a fancy super soldier or a deity made of muscles and steel.</p><p>Too many variables, too many unknowns, and not enough protective armor around his squishy parts.</p><p>No, an escape plan that had any hope of getting him out of here in one piece needed more than daring bravado and a lack of self-preservation.</p><p>With another creak, the door opened to a silhouette, framed by the bright light flooding from the outside and rendering the details too dark to see in the contrast.</p><p>Tony blinked and squinted, trying to get his eyes to focus. When the person stepped inside, the figure coalesced into a woman Tony didn’t recognize.</p><p>“Well, well, well,” she said, leaning against the door frame, a faux-casual aura oozing right off her, albeit ruined by the garland of weapons hanging off of her frame, “if it isn’t the great Tony Stark himself. A pleasure to finally meet you.”</p><p>“Likewise.” Tony flashed her a grin and leaned against the wall in his own casual sprawl. “I’d get up and shake your hand, but wouldn’t you know it? My ass is numb. Plus, the last time I stood up in the presence of your lovely co-workers, one of them kneed me in the gut and told me to stay put.”</p><p>“Hmm, such a shame,” she quipped. “They do tend to get a little twitchy, don’t they?”</p><p>It was still impossible to make out her features, but Tony could pick out a black uniform now, heavy combat boots, and hair cut short to lay at a severe angle just below her ears.</p><p>“So, going to introduce yourself? So far it’s been a whole lot of lackeys hitting me over the head, feeling me up, and feeding me what is frankly <em>atrocious</em> swill, but you…” Tony wagged a finger in her direction. “You look important.”</p><p>She cocked her head to the side. “I am important, but you don’t need to know who I am. In fact, <em>you</em> don’t need to know anything at all. I’m just here to see for myself that my <em>lackeys</em> actually managed to do what they said they did.”</p><p>“Well, here I am and now you gotta tell me why I’m here. I’m dying of curiosity. Is it jealousy? Revenge? Corporate espionage? No, no, please tell me you want me to make you weapons.”</p><p>She huffed, just like Tony knew she would. “We all know how that turned out last time, Mr. Stark. No, no, no, you’re not here to make anything.” She stepped inside and Tony got a glimpse of a whole cavalcade of underlings crowding the hall behind her.</p><p>Contrary to popular belief, Tony<em> did</em> have some self-preservation instincts left. He didn’t move from his spot on the floor.</p><p>The woman came close enough to tower over him and Tony forced himself not to react to that power imbalance either. He tried not to flinch, tried not to move at all when she kneeled and grasped his face in her hand.</p><p>Goddamn touchy kidnappers. Tony hated being manhandled like he were a doll, but she looked like she meant business and Tony didn’t want his neck snapped too early.</p><p>“Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused us? How much damage you’ve done?”</p><p>“Tell me who you work for and yeah, I might give you an estimate. Well, maybe. Probably. I’ve done a lot of damage to a lot of places. Might take a while.”</p><p>She scoffed and squeezed harder, nails digging into his skin. “So arrogant, aren’t you? You play at being a superhero—but all you are is wasted potential. The things you could’ve accomplished. They used to call you the Merchant of Death, but I look at you now and I’m <em>livid</em>—” Some spittle landed on Tony’s face. “Wasting it all on your little ruse. You should’ve been one of<em> us</em>, Tony Stark. You certainly have it in you. Fighting your allies in broad daylight like that—and still unable to save us some trouble by getting the job done? Pathetic, but I suppose even the mighty Iron Man doesn’t stand a chance against Captain America.”</p><p>Tony had a different recollection of events, thank you very much—one that included non-lethal force on one side and hurling a garage full of cars on the other—but he wasn’t going to correct this particular Hydra wanna-be about the nitty-gritty of year-old Avengers drama.</p><p>Clearly she misinterpreted his silence as fear rather than simple indignation.</p><p>“You wonder why you’re here, don’t you? Waiting for one of your friends to rescue you, for that pretty little CEO of yours to pay your ransom? Maybe you fear we’ll torture you for information or force you to built something. Don’t worry,” she all but purred and dragged her thumb over his cheek. “We both know I wouldn’t get a damn thing out of you and whatever shiny baubles you could make are not worth the trouble. <em>You</em>, Tony Stark, aren’t worth the trouble.”</p><p>“But you still went through all that <em>trouble</em> of kidnapping me, which means you do want something. Otherwise, why risk bringing the Avengers down on your head?”</p><p>“The Avengers?” She laughed. “Tell me, which ones are left to come to your rescue? The Colonel, barely able to walk? The child? Or perhaps your little Android—or do you even know where he is these days? Your precious Avengers—whatever scraps are lefts—won’t hear from us. They’ll wonder what happened to you, but they won’t have any answers. Maybe they’ll mourn. Do you think they’ll mourn for you, Stark?”</p><p>Tony ignored the jibes, ignored the guilt and the truth behind her words, ignored the sensation of being exposed because some second-rate villain knew too damn much about his family. Fortunately, she didn’t bring up anything that wasn’t already spread across gossip rags and newspapers alike.</p><p>He ignored it all, unable to do a damn thing but let her crow in her self-perceived superiority.</p><p>“Then why the hell am I here?” he whispered, hating the raspiness of his voice, wishing he could go back to the familiar mask of sarcasm and snark.</p><p>She leaned in closer, almost nose to nose now, and her breath made his stomach churn. “Maybe I just want to keep you here forever and watch you rot. Or maybe I’ll trade you to the highest bidder and let <em>them</em> take you apart. You’d be surprised how many people are looking for a mouthy brunet to take the edge off. Or if you’re lucky, I’ll find some actual use for you after all. Only time will tell, Stark.” She patted his cheek like a child’s and let go before finally standing up. She was tall, even taller than Tony, and like this, with him sprawled on the floor, her frame dwarfed him.</p><p>The smirk she threw over her shoulder before walking out was outright triumphant, a smile of a woman who had him right where she wanted him. One of the lackeys reached in to close and lock the door and when darkness and silence settled over him once again, Tony slumped against the wall with far less grace, ignoring the cold brick digging into his sore muscles.</p><p>Well, that was unpleasant. He rubbed his jaw absently, wishing he had both a wet towel to wipe away her touch and a razor to fix his already ridiculous beard.</p><p>That visit left him with more questions than answers, but Tony decided it was safe to put another check in the ‘desperate dregs of Hydra’ category.</p><p>The Avengers drove most of them into the shadows long ago and the sorry state of this base—based on what Tony could gleam from his delirious moments of wakefulness when they transported him here—pointed to a lack of resources and a half-assed attempt to recoup a modicum of power.</p><p>Her little show could’ve easily been a smokescreen used to instill fear and keep him complacent. By the looks of it, they didn’t even know what to do with him, which meant this may not have been some elaborate kidnapping.</p><p>Just his luck. Kidnapped on accident by some Hydra leftovers.</p><p>“It’d explain the grudge she was holding too,” Tony muttered to himself. Former Hydra were usually the ones most bitter about the Avengers ‘ruining their lives’. “If you don’t want someone to ruin your life,” he shouted at the door in a sudden outburst of nerves and frustration, “maybe you shouldn’t become a bunch of nazi scumbags!”</p><p>His voice bounced uselessly around the cell and sank into silence. No reply followed.</p><p>“Ugh. Assholes, all of you,” Tony muttered and dropped his head back with a thud.</p><p>He had no way of knowing what awaited him on the other side—a few amateurs scrambling to find something to do with the billionaire they snatched off the streets or a legitimate collection of former Hydra operatives with more than half a brain cell between them—so in this moment, all he could do was keeping waiting for an opportunity.</p><p>But no matter how grateful he was to be in one piece, he <em>hated</em> this waiting game. The uncertainty of it all scratched at the insides of his skull, pushed and pulled until he wanted to crawl out of his skin. This limbo and isolation drove him crazier with each turn of the clock.</p><p>That, and he was still so damn <em>bored</em>.</p><p>“At least give me a damn coloring book, you bastards!” he shouted again just because he could, expecting no answers, expecting nothing to change in the coming days.</p>
<hr/><p>Tony regretted <em>everything</em> two days later when a whole sea of armed guards barged inside, shouted orders and threats for him to stay down, and tossed someone into the opposite corner of the cell before slamming the door shut and leaving Tony to stare in horror at the unconscious, beaten body of the Winter Soldier himself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This fic is complete and will be posted over the next couple of weeks with updates every other day. Thank you for reading! 💜💜💜</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even through the murkiness of exhaustion and pain, James could tell that although his circumstances had changed, nothing changed for the better.</p>
<p>Hydra still had him, his mind still lagged, and his arm remained a useless hunk of metal and agony at his side. His body refused to cooperate, the mere act of opening his eyes a struggle, and everything <em>hurt</em>, so much, but sinking back into darkness was worse.</p>
<p>James clung to the vestiges of consciousness and tried to force his body to comply. He had to <em>think</em>.</p>
<p>They moved him, possibly to another base. He was inside another cell, but now unrestrained. Whatever they pumped into his blood still kept him weak and on the edge of delirium and his body, starved and injured, was left to struggle with its meager energy reserves to keep him alive.</p>
<p>Most importantly though, he wasn’t alone.</p>
<p>Another Hydra operative? One of the scientists? A prisoner? Desperation clawed at James’ insides, to move and to see, to <em>know</em>—</p>
<p>The burst of energy was enough to drag his eyes open, his lids crusty and dry. He blinked several times as the huddled figure on the other side of the cell came into focus.</p>
<p>Barefoot, in dirty, torn-up jeans, illuminated by a sliver of light, beneath a dirty rag spread over their lap.</p>
<p>Prisoner then, James realized, and relief flooded him. He wasn’t alone, there was someone else here, someone who could help, someone who wouldn’t hurt him—</p>
<p>But reality came crashing down when his eyes finally trailed up and met a familiar gaze. Sharp, distrustful, watching him like a hawk.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p>
<p>James was god-knows-where, captured and tortured by the last, pathetic remnants of Hydra, drugged and incapacitated and trapped.</p>
<p>With Tony Stark.</p>
<p>For all his inability to recall the finer details of yesterday, last week, last <em>month</em>, thanks to the drugs coursing through his veins, he remembered the fight in Siberia with painful clarity, the memories only fortified over the course of the last year by his own guilt.</p>
<p>James tried to raise himself up on his elbow, thinking he’d have enough strength to sit up, but his body seized as a violent cough wrenched every bit of air out of his lungs. He keened from the pain and collapsed back onto the cold, dirty floor, desperate to say something, <em>anything</em>, but his body was too weak to do more than move his lips uselessly as he tried to swallow down more air.</p>
<p>There was a kernel of fear growing at the back of his mind, but the full intensity of it was smothered by the drug-induced fog. What did it matter anyways?</p>
<p>His eyes fell shut, taking with them Stark’s dirty, gaunt face—his expression still fierce, still determined—and James thought it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to die at the hands of the man he had orphaned.</p>
<p>A life for a life. That was the fair thing, wasn’t it?</p>
<p>He thought he managed to whisper a ragged, “I’m sorry,” before darkness descended and drowned him yet again.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Anyone who knew Tony would say he was notoriously bad at keeping track of time. Getting lost in his work, keeping unorthodox sleeping hours, and running on nothing but caffeine and spite added up to a contentious relationship with the relentless march of time. In here, the window above him may have provided a good indication of days passing by, but Tony’s own perception of time began to slip more and more.</p>
<p>His newfound company certainly didn’t help.</p>
<p>The extra bout of vigilance and his fired-up nerves stretched minutes into hours—long, silent minutes Tony spent watching the Winter Soldier’s prone form, trying to corral a thousand thoughts into order and preparing himself for the worst.</p>
<p>The daylight was gone by the time Barnes finally stirred with a groan and a tremble.</p>
<p>Tony tensed, prepared himself for a fight—but all that tension and all those racing thoughts, all that fear, in the end were for nothing.</p>
<p>All Barnes managed to do was have a painful coughing fit, look at Tony with a hazy expression that spoke of pain and drugs and a myriad of other Hydra hospitalities, murmur something unintelligible through bloody, chapped lips, and promptly pass out.</p>
<p>For hours afterwards, Tony kept watch, huddled as far away as he could, the minutes dragging on and on and on into hours again. Barnes didn’t move though and after a while, Tony allowed himself to shed some of the tension and breathe.</p>
<p>Still, Tony’s eyes kept coming back to Barnes, like watching a catastrophe happen and being unable to look away.</p>
<p>“What the hell did they do to you?” Tony muttered, just to fill the air with noise. He already had a habit of thinking out loud—usually because there was a clunky bot or a sassy AI around to listen—and this experience only ingrained it further.</p>
<p>To put it lightly, Barnes was in rough shape and the fact that a super soldier had been brought to this state at all, incapacitated so thoroughly and knocked out for this long, said plenty about the treatment Barnes had endured.</p>
<p>There were no outward-looking injuries Tony could see other than the livid bruise still marring half of Barnes’ face, but that bruise alone spoke volumes. It meant Barnes wasn’t healing the way he was supposed to, the way Tony was used to seeing from watching Steve bounce back from having buildings topple on top of him as if it were just a walk in the park, which meant there could be other injuries beneath those dirty, raggedy jeans and a sweatshirt. Internal bleeding, broken bones, lacerations, infections.</p>
<p>Tony told himself he hadn’t tried to touch Barnes because he didn’t know the extent of these potential injuries, and that was the truth, mostly, but there were also echoes of battle, grainy memories and hard hits, anger and hurt and so much guilt, that Tony found himself unable to get any closer.</p>
<p>He closed his eyes and Barnes disappeared into the darkness behind his lids.</p>
<p>Maybe this was all one big cosmic joke or maybe it was Tony’s infamous bad luck or maybe these assholes really did know something about poetic irony. The woman from earlier certainly knew enough about the Avengers to know he and Barnes were on opposite sides—of what though, Tony didn’t know anymore. What ‘sides’ could there be in this cell anyways?</p>
<p>He opened his eyes again. Barned hadn’t moved.</p>
<p>Did they expect him to <em>kill</em> Barnes?</p>
<p>He could, he supposed. Shove a wadded-up blanket over his face and watch him turn blue, crush his windpipe beneath Tony’s foot, take the reactor out of Tony’s chest, put them both into cardiac arrest and call it a day.</p>
<p>But what if it was the other way around? Certainly Barnes looked like a piping hot mess right now, but with enough time, food, and rest, he might bounce back. Tony, on the other hand, was squishy and human and getting weaker by the day and maybe Barnes wouldn’t be so thrilled to see his <em>other</em> enemy in here.</p>
<p>The likeliest scenario though was that their captors simply didn’t <em>care</em>; they would enjoy watching them try to kill each other in whatever manner that struggle played out.</p>
<p>Tony watched Barnes’ chest rise and fall on another labored breath. He stared at the mangled mess of an arm, metal and wires sticking out every which way.</p>
<p>Tony’s only chance at survival could easily be seizing this opportunity now, taking the first step, eliminating one potential threat out of many. Survival of the fittest, right?</p>
<p>Wrong.</p>
<p>Fuck that. Barnes could do whatever the hell he wanted, but Tony was not about to give an ounce of satisfaction to the cretins who dragged their sorry asses in here.</p>
<p>They expected him to be angry and take revenge on Barnes and why would they expect anything else? Tony’s reputation always preceded him and the visage of the Merchant of Death still followed him like a shadow. Tony had accepted that long ago. He accepted that people would never see the person he tried to be. It was evident in Steve’s callously thrown words on the Hellicarrier, even more clear in those later years,<em> after</em>, when they were supposed to be a team, when Steve and the others would still eye him with that same suspicion any time Tony mentioned anything from those pre-Iron Man days, as if Tony was still one skip and a hop away from sliding right back into darkness, ready to trade illegal weapons again and sell his soul to the highest bidder.</p>
<p>Funny how most people forgot Tony never sold one goddamn weapon under the table. He was arrogant and ignorant and so damn<em> foolish</em> in his youth, sure, but he was never the evil caricature some wanted to see.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t become that caricature today either and it would serve these bastards right for underestimating Tony’s ability to let go of old hurts for a greater good.</p>
<p>In fact, this wasn’t even about the ‘greater good’ and their immediate survival. His anger at Barnes had faded long ago, far quicker than his far more complicated feelings for Steve and the rest of the Avengers who bailed at the first sign of conflict. The others, they had choices and time, but ever since the damn forties, Barnes had been nothing but a plaything for others and even when he was no longer a literal Hydra puppet, he still got caught up in Ross’ political machinations and Steve’s personal dramas. This poor guy hadn’t had a chance to so much as <em>breathe</em>, let alone process and deal and make rational choices—and look at him now.</p>
<p>Tony had to wonder who had the worst luck here, him or Barnes.</p>
<p>The answer was Barnes, obviously, because decades of torture trumped just about everything else, but still, Tony decided they both deserved better.</p>
<p>The remaining traces of his fear faded beneath a thought that felt silly in a place like this.</p>
<p>Obviously, Tony had no clue what Barnes would do when he woke up. Maybe Barnes wouldn’t be quite so eager to forgive and forget, but Tony always did have a bit of an optimistic streak to go with his masochistic one and he vowed to himself that if by some miracle they both got out of here alive, he’d buy this guy a burger and a drink and they could commiserate over their shared bad luck in style.</p>
<p>Tony audibly snorted and wrapped the thin blanket tighter around his shoulders while an unpleasant draft wafted through the cell.</p>
<p>A silly, delirious thought. There was no way in hell Barnes would want anything to do with him. Tony tried to kill him and his best friend. He blasted off the old arm. No point beating around the bush, they were hardly the right pair for <em>friendship</em>.</p>
<p>Tony watched Barnes’ breathing for several more minutes, then finally turned away and curled up against the wall. He let his mind drift, focusing on mental images of schematics and projects again, the details and numbers soothing his restless mind.</p>
<p>He failed to find deep, restful sleep, but his mind still lost track of the time and it was the now-familiar sounds of footsteps that brought him back to wakefulness.</p>
<p>The door creaked, dragging across the concrete floor. The man that stepped inside was still armed to the teeth—and really, Tony was flattered his food delivery service needed that many semi-automatics. The unnamed lackey dropped the tray onto the floor, uncaring that he spilled half of the swill they called soup, and slammed the metal door shut once again.</p>
<p>No greeting, no sneering, not even an insult. These guys were no fun and Tony fought back a petulant groan. Sure, it was probably better to be left alone—for both his sake and Barnes’—but really, a few traded barbs would’ve spiced up Tony’s whole day.</p>
<p>Honestly, the loneliness and the boredom would get him long before whatever nefarious plan Hydra had for him did.</p>
<p>Tony glanced over at Barnes, confirmed he was still out like a light, and trudged over to grab the tray and examine the offerings. Same as last time, there was bread, soup with a few pieces of suspiciously unidentifiable protein and potatoes floating around, some rice and beans.</p>
<p>A portion for one, and barely at that. Tony knew what it meant. They weren’t planning on feeding Barnes. They wanted to keep him starved and incapacitated—there were probably drugs in his system, which would explain his unresponsive state.</p>
<p>Well, there wasn’t much else to do then. The kidnappers didn’t seem to be watching and there were no cameras that Tony could find, nothing but solid brick walls and unyielding cement. They fully expected Tony to scarf down his own portion, keep his own ass alive, and watch Barnes wither away.</p>
<p>Idiots.</p>
<p>For the millionth time, Tony wished Rhodey were here. Not only would he rescue Tony in the most dramatic way possible while being badass and snarky, he’d also inform these morons about Tony’s many, <em>many</em> personality defects.</p>
<p>His self-destructive tendencies ranked right up there and had seen more publicity than most, but the mother-henning usually got an honorable mention too, although rarely outside of his circle of friends, most of whom wouldn’t be surprised to find it extended to more than just bright-eyed, fatherless children. Beaten-up super soldiers qualified too.</p>
<p>Tony ripped off a small piece of bread and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed methodically, trying not to think about the plain taste, the obvious staleness, the shame of being reduced to savoring scraps.</p>
<p>He’d been here before and if he didn’t complain about it in a damn cave, he wouldn’t complain about it here, not even in the privacy of his mind.</p>
<p>He left the rest of the bread alone and took a few sips from the paper cup of water next. Everything was paper and he was given no utensils, but Tony would manage.</p>
<p>He ate a little bit of the soup, but then dumped the rice and beans into it. It’d be a mushy, unappetizing mess as the rice absorbed the liquid, but food was food. He hid the soup, the bread, and the rest of the water behind a pile of blankets and left the rest of the tray as it was, to be taken away at some random time during the next twenty-four hours. These guys weren’t consistent and they weren’t observant, at least not the lackeys doing the day-to-day visits, so Tony hoped no one would care enough to notice he’d nicked a few things from the tray.</p>
<p>His stomach rumbled in disapproval and Tony rubbed a hand over it, but didn’t reach for the food.</p>
<p>He could last a few days on some bread and water, but his not-so-little friend over there might not and he needed Barnes awake and alive.</p>
<p>Because for all his genius, Tony was on the wrong side of useless in here. There was no tech, nothing for Tony to manipulate or rebuild or rewire to go <em>kaboom</em>. All he had was his arc reactor, acting as the depressing sort of night light it used to be all those years ago—was once again after his doctors realized they’d need something to hold him together and keep his heart beating after Siberia.</p>
<p>He was no slouch in a fight and he could shoot a gun with the best of them, but getting out of here would require the sort of brute strength that could break down doors and knock out guards with one well-placed punch.</p>
<p>It was a no-brainer to share the food then, Tony told himself—and reminded his stomach, which still growled, displeased with this course of action.</p>
<p>Tony glanced at this cellmate’s prone body and hoped this would be enough to help Barnes recover—and if he did get better, that his first course of action wouldn’t be taking their unfinished business to its gruesome, bloody conclusion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took another day for Barnes to wake up again.</p>
<p>Tony spent the time formulating, discarding, and remapping plan after plan, stashing away more food, and wondering what the rest of the world thought about their absences. Despite his reluctance, he dipped into the first stash himself, mostly to keep from passing out and the food from going bad. Thankfully, his kidnappers had been getting lazier and the last meal was mostly granola bars, jerky, and a cup of more mushy glop that may have, at some point, resembled edible soup.</p>
<p>All thoughts of plans and food and boredom fled the moment Barnes stirred to life and Tony held himself still, ready for anything, as he watched Barnes struggle to reorient himself and sit up. He must’ve regained some of his strength because it only took a minute of pained groans and heavy breathing before he managed to raise himself up on his elbow.</p>
<p>He coughed, the sound violent as it reverberated through the room; after a few raspy breaths, Barnes spat to the side and gagged. Tony could sympathize—his mouth tasted like a dirty, wet ashtray too—but he didn’t comment on it. He didn’t say anything, just held himself perfectly still while huddling in his corner. The next few minutes would decide everything and Tony didn’t want to screw it all up with a snarky remark.</p>
<p>Barnes’ dirty hair hung in long, lanky curtains, obscuring his face, but from the tension in his body and the tremors running through him, Tony could see he was still in pain. His left arm lay next to him, immobilized, and Tony hadn’t seen so much as a finger twitch. He supposed it made sense; if the arm was still functional, the Winter Soldier wouldn’t have ended up here in the first place.</p>
<p>Seconds crawled by as Tony watched Barnes struggle to hold himself up and stay conscious. He wanted to avert his eyes, to stop playing the captive audience to a moment so private and vulnerable—but self-preservation won out and finally, Barnes tilted his head to look back at Tony.</p>
<p>Neither the grime nor the dirty locks of hair nor the vivid bruise on his face detracted from Barnes’ striking pair of pale blue eyes.</p>
<p><em>Eat your heart out, Rogers</em>, Tony thought, a touch hysterically, and he didn’t look away, no matter how much that gaze burned.</p>
<p>Barnes appeared lucid at least and he let out a tiny huff, the sort of sound that would’ve counted as amusement anywhere but here.</p>
<p>“So I didn’t hallucinate you then.”</p>
<p>Tony shook his head, but he didn’t add to that, still too afraid to break the delicate equilibrium.</p>
<p>Barnes nodded though, as if confirming the reality of Tony’s presence. “That’d just be my luck, wouldn’t it?” He coughed again, groaning. “Fuck, of all the people…” he muttered as he dragged his uncooperative body to lean against the wall. The left arm still hadn’t moved, a dead weight keeping Barnes off-balance.</p>
<p>Tony clenched his teeth, willing the flair of hurt to just disappear. It didn’t matter, his stupid <em>feelings</em> didn’t matter, not in here. He was kidnapped and starved, for fuck’s sake—but his chest still ached and his mind still taunted him with recriminations because Barnes had been awake for all of <em>two</em> seconds and already he found the time to be disappointed that he was stuck here, in this stupid cell, with <em>Tony</em>.</p>
<p>Of all the people, indeed. Tony couldn’t even blame him. Without tech, without something he could build or fix or repurpose, Tony was about as useful as a newborn kitten. He got that, he understood Barnes would’ve preferred anyone else, but did he have to be so fucking obvious about it?</p>
<p>Tony watched Barnes try to rearrange his body into semblance of comfort—or rather, Tony guessed, into a position that caused him the least amount of pain—with one leg stretched out, the other curled against him, his torso finally upright against the wall. His eyes were closed, but a sheen of sweat had gathered right above his brow. Since it was uncomfortably chilly in the cell, Tony had to guess it was due to the pain or perhaps the super serum struggling to heal Barnes.</p>
<p>He looked miserable—and gaunt, which was messing with Tony in all the worst ways because super soldiers were not supposed to look gaunt and sad and <em>broken</em>, not when they were meant to be the pinnacles of strength and the paragons of virtue. Wasn’t that how the story went?</p>
<p>Tony admitted to himself this was probably his bitterness talking and he was also pragmatic enough to admit there was no place for that between these four walls.</p>
<p>Barnes wasn’t thrilled with his cellmate, but all he had right now was Tony ‘of all the people’ Stark and he’d just have to get over it.</p>
<p>Tony hadn’t been stashing that food away for nothing.</p>
<p>Gathering his indignant thoughts around him like a shield, Tony sat up, cautious and slow, telegraphing each movement as he crawled over to the corner.</p>
<p>He kept one eye on Barnes and Barnes tried to do the same, but it was obvious his attention was waning and by the time Tony had reached his little blanket fort with the food, Barnes had curled in on himself against the wall, his head buried between his knees, flesh hand tangled in his hair, his back to Tony. Tony wondered if Barnes was drifting again, fighting a body that was desperate to put him back to sleep.</p>
<p>Hopefully food would make things better—or at least not make things <em>worse</em>, he supposed.</p>
<p>He grabbed today’s cup of cold mush—hadn’t even been warm when it arrived—but it would be the easiest thing for Barnes to digest after not having eaten in however long he’d been here. Maybe they could move on to the granola bars and the jerky later.</p>
<p>Reluctant to give Barnes any reason to perceive him as a threat, Tony forewent standing up and shuffled over on his knees instead, but there was no reaction when he got closer even though he knew Barnes was still awake by the sound of his shallow wheezes.</p>
<p>Throwing caution to the wind, Tony whispered a hesitant, “Barnes?” and tapped his ankle with his free hand.</p>
<p>The reaction was immediate. Barnes seized with a full body flinch and curled in on himself even further.</p>
<p>“Don’t, please.”</p>
<p>“Barnes, what are you—”</p>
<p>“I know it’s— I know I deserve it, but I—” There was more babbled nonsense Tony couldn’t decipher, the words muffled and slurred, but then Tony picked on them when Barnes whispered, “I thought I’d be—a little braver about this, but I don’t want to die. Please. Not like this.”</p>
<p>He listened with dawning horror. Did Barnes really expect him to just—</p>
<p>“Do you think—what, that I’m trying to <em>kill</em> you here? What the hell, Barnes?”</p>
<p>Barnes’ body went still, all but for the ragged breaths still muffled into his knees. “It’d be the perfect opportunity, wouldn’t it? To get your revenge—”</p>
<p>“It’s fucking soup, asshole, not revenge,” Tony snapped in a burst of fury exploding—and then simmering down, right back into <em>hurt</em>. He slammed the cup next to Barnes’ thigh, spilling some of its mushy contents, but the gesture was wholly unsatisfying as the paper’s muffled tap against the concrete was as pathetic as Tony’s stupid, hurt feelings. “It’s not poisoned, but you don’t have to take my word for it. Eat or don’t eat, I don’t care, but don’t assume you know what my motives are. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”</p>
<p>He stood up this time and made his way back to his own corner. This part was unsatisfying too, not being able to stomp away and hide after shouting at someone like that, to be stuck in the same tiny cell without an escape while the air around them crackled with too many pent-up emotions.</p>
<p>But Tony had no other choice, so with rough, choppy movements that telegraphed his anger far too clearly, he wrapped himself back in his dirty blanket and curled up against his own wall, putting his back to Barnes, refusing to watch anymore. Barnes could do whatever the hell he wanted and Tony would—</p>
<p>Tony would try not to think why Barnes’ assumptions hurt so damn much.</p>
<p>It was the hunger and the exhaustion, he told himself. It made him too sensitive, too exposed. Like a live wire.</p>
<p>After all, why should he care? Wasn’t this Tony’s lot in life anyways? His kidnappers thought he’d kill Barnes, Barnes thought he’d kill him too, and even his former <em>teammates</em> thought he’d kill him if he got so much as a whiff of Barnes’ unsavory, brainwashed past. Wasn’t that why Steve kept quiet about it right until Zemo took the choice out of his hands?</p>
<p>No, better to lie than to give Tony the opportunity to process the truth, to accept that the most tragic, most defining event of his young life had been orchestrated by Hydra, that he’d spent decades blaming Howard when there was someone else he could’ve blamed, someone he could’ve brought to justice.</p>
<p>Not Barnes, obviously, because past that one momentary flash of rage in the bunker, Tony was neither blind nor vindictive enough to blame a weapon for being fired, but what did it matter? In the end, no matter what Tony did, the world continued to see what it wanted. Selfish, brash, arrogant, careless. <em>Killer.</em></p>
<p>Tony closed his eyes and willed himself to fall asleep, to pass out, <em>anything</em> to escape these damn thoughts.</p>
<p>But sleep didn’t come, his body refusing to let its guard down.</p>
<p>Save for their breathing, the cell remained silent and Tony would’ve continued brooding in that silence forever—he was stubborn, that much the world got right—but some of his anger eased despite his best efforts when he heard a few shuffling noises of limbs rearranging themselves, then a tentative slurp, then another. The third one sounded almost eager.</p>
<p>Tony didn’t look to confirm, but he listened to Barnes eat, trying not to let himself think it meant a damn thing, but it was hard to stay angry when it was Barnes who broke the silence first with a slurred, tired whisper of “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Two simple words, but it eased something inside Tony and somehow he managed to fall asleep after all, despite his ever-precarious situation, despite Barnes still just a few feet away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was difficult to say how much sleep he ended up getting. The sliver of sky outside was dark with heavy rains, so it could’ve been day or night, but Tony’s first conscious thought when he woke was to look for Barnes. A sigh escaped him when he saw Barnes was out again and while he was relieved to avoid another awkward stand-off, he also couldn’t ignore the reluctant worry. He didn’t want Barnes dead, thank you very much, right now or in general.</p>
<p>With nothing else to do and with sleep no longer an option, Tony occupied himself with doing light stretches, a measly defense against the constant soreness from sitting on the cold floor and having no room to roam.</p>
<p>Meal time came and went with Barnes still out, but when Tony crawled a little closer to check, his breathing seemed steadier. He saved the bread and the soup again, allowing himself half of the water and the most ancient-tasting granola bar in existence.</p>
<p>It wasn’t even close to enough, but it gave him a little bit of energy, his stomach desperately gobbling up the calories; Tony spent the rest of his time on his feet, pacing back and forth, trying to redesign Peter’s entire suit in his head from the ground up, muttering equations and specs and to-do lists into the empty, cold air.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Hey, easy, you’re alright. I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you. Remember?”</p>
<p>Barnes’ unsteady nod wasn’t convincing this time either. The whole song and dance was getting a little old, but Barnes was drifting in and out of consciousness unpredictably now so Tony had to take advantage of every lucid moment.</p>
<p>Granted, <em>lucid</em> was an over-exaggeration right now. Barnes hadn’t been able to get more than a few bites down and now shrunk away from Tony’s touch; his whimpers of pain made something inside Tony shrivel up and die.</p>
<p>“No, it hurts… Please.”</p>
<p>“I know. Not gonna hurt you though, just trying to help. Here, try to lie down—no, no, don’t move that arm—yeah, just like that, here.”</p>
<p>Tony grabbed one of the blankets and draped it over Barnes before tucking the ends around him carefully.</p>
<p>“M’sorry.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you keep saying that, Robocop.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Barnes slept like the dead when he was out, which Tony hoped wasn’t going to end up being literally true any time soon. At least this time Barnes managed a whole cup of rice speckled with meat before passing out and he even appeared to have recognized Tony as someone<em> not </em>about to stab him in the eye; there was still too many babbled apologies for Tony’s tastes and far too much pain, but he’d consider it progress.</p>
<p>He scanned Barnes one more time, looking for any more positive signs. With a gentle hand, he pushed aside the dirty locks of hair to tuck behind Barnes’ ear and took comfort that the bruise was a washed-out yellow now—an ugly color, no doubt, but one that meant Barnes was healing.</p>
<p>That’d have to count as progress too.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The pain engulfing the left side of his body was still the first thing to greet him, but everything else seemed to be faring far better as each new second of wakefulness brought with it more clarity and his thoughts no longer twisted into one another, trapped and lost in a thick, drugged-up fog. That alone was significant.</p>
<p>James blinked open his eyes to see the stone ceiling above him, washed pale by the small sliver of moonlight coming from the window up high.</p>
<p>They hadn’t moved him this time. He was still in the same cell and the soft sounds of breathing nearby meant he also wasn’t alone.</p>
<p>Stark.</p>
<p>He was still here.</p>
<p>Fragments of memories cascaded down out of the fog. Stark’s face, his severe frown, the darkness beneath his eyes. Gentle hands, keeping James upright, helping him lie down. Hands that were never empty and James remembered eating whatever he was given, down to the last drop, to the last crumb, his body greedy for energy.</p>
<p>He remembered soft nonsense words that helped when the pain was enough to make James beg for it all to end.</p>
<p>His own words hadn’t been as cooperative then as his body fought to purge the drugs out of his system. He remembered wanting to ask questions, to know how Stark ended up here, whether he was alright, but he couldn’t remember stringing more than a sentence together before his body forced him back into sleep, determined to use this precious new energy to stitch itself back together.</p>
<p>His system was clear now though and his body was rapidly regaining its previous durability and strength.</p>
<p>James tilted his head just a fraction.</p>
<p>Stark was asleep on the other side of the cell, curled up like a child.</p>
<p>It was chilly, and while the cold air was a refreshing change for James, Stark must’ve felt every bit of it. Even like this, he could tell Stark had lost weight as well and James couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been in here and what else Hydra had done to him.</p>
<p>The blue glow of the arc reactor seemed new. Was it there last time? The Iron Man suit had one, but for the life of him, James couldn’t remember Berlin. All he remembered was shooting this man point blank in the face.</p>
<p>Careful not to make any noise, James sat up slowly, pushing away the thin blanket that covered him. He began testing each part of his body to see the response and it was better, so much better, even if he was still ravenous and a little light-headed and his left arm still sent bullets of agony up and down his spine any time he moved the useless hunk of metal around.</p>
<p>He knew Shuri would take offense to any of her tech being called ‘useless’, but even Wakandan tech succumbed to sheer, brute force. His mangled mess of an arm proved that point effectively.</p>
<p>Stark didn’t stir despite James’ soft shuffles. His chest rose and fell, the light and the shadows moving in tandem, and James watched Stark for a long time to study the scant details afforded to him by the moonlight.</p>
<p>He didn’t know how to deal with the squirmy feeling deep in his chest. How could Stark fall asleep like that, just feet away from the man who tried to kill him multiple times, who killed his family?</p>
<p>He probably couldn’t help it, James told himself. Of course he’d succumb to exhaustion despite his circumstances. This was all about survival.</p>
<p>Still, none of that explained the gentle hands and the kind words from before.</p>
<p>James glanced over, behind another blanket bunched up in the corner, and there was water there and several pieces of bread and dried meat. If Stark hadn’t eaten it right away, maybe there was a chance it was left here for James?</p>
<p>His stomach rumbled as he eyed the food, but he didn’t move, immobilized by the thought of how selfish it would be to simply reach out and take it. God, he shouldn’t even be here, he should be<em> dead </em>already, Stark had every right to finish what he started—</p>
<p>“Hey, Terminator, stop staring at the damn food and eat it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James jumped, startled out of his misery by the voice—and apparently he wasn’t back at one hundred percent after all since he found Stark already sitting up and frowning at him.</p>
<p>Stark’s frown was rendered partially ineffective however by the general disheveled messiness of him and the weariness and whatever James remembered of Tony Stark, it wasn’t this tired, gaunt man.</p>
<p>Well, James corrected himself, that wasn’t entirely true. The determination behind that glare seemed about right, so with a mute nod, he gathered up the food and cradled it to him as he methodically began to chew and swallow, fighting down the urge to rush.</p>
<p>Stark’s eyes hadn’t left him and James watched him in turn and when he noticed a telltale shiver, he gestured with his chin to the blanket next to him.</p>
<p>“Take this one too.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need it?”</p>
<p>James shook his head before taking another bite of the bread. Dry, old, but calories were calories. “The serum’s working overtime to heal now, so I’m producing as much heat as a damn engine.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s nice,” Stark muttered with a sigh, but it seemed more resigned than anything. He crawled over to grab both blankets and tossed one over his legs while the other went around his shoulders. Unfortunately, he looked no more warm than before and James could only hope they’d both be out of here before nights turned much colder as they neared the winter months.</p>
<p>Stark took a few minutes to settle back in. “You seem to be better now,” he remarked and James nodded again.</p>
<p>“I am, yeah. I think the drugs are finally out of my system and the serum’s taking care of the rest. The food helped a lot. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“That’s good,” Stark said, a little lamely. “And, uh, you’re welcome, I guess. I mean, you were pretty out of it and everything. Glad you’re not… dying.”</p>
<p>The awkwardness was palpable, the tension and all the things unspoken between them still holding them back from having any sort of normal exchange and James was certain it would suffocate them in this tiny cell, so after he placed the empty paper cup back on the floor, he took a breath and steeled himself for something he wished he had the opportunity to do long ago. “Stark, listen, about everything that happened, back in Berlin, back in that damn bunker—I am so damn sorry and if I could, I would take it all back, I would—”</p>
<p>“Nope, don’t do that right now.” Stark shook his head rapidly to cut him off. “We are <em>not</em> doing that.”</p>
<p>“Doing what?”</p>
<p>“That whole, touchy-feely, ‘let’s talk about our emotions’ thing. No, just no. That’s even worse than us beating each other up.”</p>
<p>“What? No, I have to say something—if nothing else, you deserve an apology and—”</p>
<p>“Don’t you know apologies give people hives?” Stark grumbled, but when he saw James’ unimpressed face, his shoulders slumped. “Please, just—not here, not in this stupid cell, not when we’re both already miserable and I feel like the walls are closing in on me and I don’t even have an escape route. Okay?” Stark looked at him and while his jaw was set in a stubborn line, his dark eyes pleaded for respite. “Whatever happened, it happened, it’s done—and it’s fine. We don’t need to rehash it.”</p>
<p>James wanted to argue, wanted to say that it <em>wasn’t</em> fine, that he wanted to apologize for the damage he’d caused… but Stark didn’t want open old wounds and truth be told, neither did he.</p>
<p>“Okay,” he agreed, however reluctant, “but we can’t sit in awkward silence forever.”</p>
<p>“No, we can’t—although you haven’t exactly been quiet either. Said quite a few things while you were fading in and out.”</p>
<p>James winced. “Not sure it’s fair to hold my drug-induced babble against me.”</p>
<p>“Also true, but you seem all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed now, and you’re right, we need to establish a baseline, so how about I start? I do not want to <em>kill</em> you. Okay? I don’t want to maim you or hurt you or even punch you in the face, not even a little bit. So if you look at me again with those big blue eyes of yours like I’m death reincarnate, I’m going to be very offended and assume you’re a crappy listener. You got that?”</p>
<p>James tried not to let his relief show too much. He’d look like an idiot smiling while Stark was trying to scold him. “Yes, I got it—and I’d like to think I’m a decent listener.”</p>
<p>“Great, then it means I won’t have to repeat myself.”</p>
<p>“For what it’s worth, I don’t want to hurt you either. I don’t think I ever did—or meant to—but I suppose we’re not supposed to talk about that, huh?”</p>
<p>Stark’s mouth didn’t know whether to scowl or smile. “Good, glad you’re following along.”</p>
<p>James shrugged, then enjoyed a few bites of jerky in silence. He knew it was better to leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t help but ask, “But you’d still punch Steve though, right? Just a little bit?”</p>
<p>Stark huffed, the closest thing James had gotten to a laugh. “I might give it an old-fashioned try, sure, although people smarter than me would say it’s not worth the broken phalanges.”</p>
<p>“Then why let me off the hook, but not him?”</p>
<p>“Because things between Steve and me were <em>personal</em>. There was—<em>history</em> and we were supposed to be a ‘team’ and I trusted him—” Stark cut himself off with a growl, pulled his knees closer to him, and stared at the nearby wall. “You’re breaking the rules, Winter Wonder. We’re not supposed to be talking about this.”</p>
<p>“Sorry.”</p>
<p>“Are you though?” The question came out without the barbs James would have expected. More than anything, Stark just seemed tired, especially when he added, “Listen, you and me? We’re basically strangers and you had no reason to pull your punches. I attacked, you attacked back. Seems pretty simple.” Stark spent another long second studying the gray stone surrounding them. “Besides, last I checked, Steve isn’t here right now.”</p>
<p>“No, he’s not. S’just you and me.”</p>
<p>“Right. And because I want both of our dumb asses to get out of this alive, here’s my offer. Blank slates for the both of us. Whatever happened before, whatever we did or didn’t do to each other… We let that shit go. Whatever we do with this, whatever we make of each other—” Stark tapped the concrete beneath him with a single finger. “It starts right here.”</p>
<p>James never thought absolution would arise in a place like this, with all its pain and misery and blood, but he did smile now, a small, tired thing that was barely more than a twitch of his lips.</p>
<p>Deep inside though, it felt a lot more like bliss. “I’d really, really like that.”</p>
<p>“Good, because it’ll take both of us to make our cunning escape, which means I need you on board.”</p>
<p>“Trust me, I’m all in.” James eyed the locked door and finally allowed himself to think of their kidnappers. “I do have to wonder though, why stick us in the same cell? Sure, this base is basically in ruins—”</p>
<p>“Which means they’re slumming and short on resources. Plus, this could easily be the one place in the whole compound fortified enough to keep either one of us imprisoned.”</p>
<p>“Right, but putting us together? Still seems like an unnecessary risk.”</p>
<p>Here, Stark smiled too, but this was a bitter, sharp smile and James had to bat away the intrusive thought that he never wanted to see it again.</p>
<p>“Well, my dear Barnes, it all comes down to our captors making the same assumptions about me that you did. They thought I’d love the opportunity to do their dirty work for them and finish you off while you were unable to defend yourself.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” It made sense, in a morbid, Hydra-esque way. “I’m glad you didn’t.”</p>
<p>“Me too. What I don’t get, however, is why they’re wasting a perfectly good super soldier in the first place by pumping him full of drugs.”</p>
<p>The pointed raise of Stark’s brow said more than enough about the implications behind his words.</p>
<p>At least here, James could deliver some good news. He settled in more comfortably against the wall and let his good arm rest behind his head to cushion it; he knew he looked almost pleased with himself, so he was sure to flash Stark an easy grin to complete the picture. “Well, my dear Stark, it all comes down to this nifty new thing I’m trying where if some asshole says the trigger words, all I do is tell them to go fuck themselves.”</p>
<p>Stark snorted, the sound startled out of him, and <em>that</em> James did want to see again, a little burst of levity in this awful place.</p>
<p>“Oh, I think I’m starting to like you more and more. Two questions then.” Stark held up a finger. “One, was it Shuri who managed to deprogram the triggers? And two, does this mean we’re dealing with Hydra?”</p>
<p>“No to the first, yes to the second. Shuri didn’t want to go poking around in my head, but she’s not the only brainiac in Wakanda, so King T’Challa managed to find a few others who fit the bill. Clearly whatever they did worked, since I’m here and talking to ya. As for our lovely captors… Yes, it is Hydra, or at least a loosely cobbled-together faction of ‘em.” Stark nodded along; he probably made all the right assumptions, but James had enough insider knowledge to have confirmation. “Dunno if you’ve had the displeasure of meeting her yet, but Lyudochka— Lyudmila Vasilyevna, if my memory holds up—was involved in the tail-end of the Winter Soldier program. She mostly worked with the other Soldiers, but we crossed paths more than once.”</p>
<p>“Makes sense that she’d want you back then. How did they snatch you up anyways? I thought you super soldiers were supposed to be more slick than this.”</p>
<p>James huffed good-naturedly. Good lord, but the things a bit of food and a friendly face did for a man. “Got lazy, complacent, let my guard down. Isn’t that how things always go? Just going about my business, next thing I know, some guy has a gun to a random kid’s head, tells me to come with him. What the hell else was I supposed to do? Two steps in, I turn around and they zap me with something—they were trying to disable the arm, I think, but this is Shuri’s tech, it ain’t gonna fry out that easy. Fried my brain well enough though, and next time I open my eyes, I’m strapped to another damn chair, arm’s a mangled mess, and Lyuda is chattering over me in Russian. Went downhill from there when she realized she’d wasted all those resources tracking down the last Winter Soldier and all he’s willing to do is show her the finger.”</p>
<p>“They didn’t try to, uh, to reprogram you again?”</p>
<p>Whatever levity there was faded with the question, but James couldn’t fault Stark for the curiosity. These were the answers that could mean life or death for him down the line. “They did try, a few times, with the electroshocks an’ all…” James clenched his fist and tried to erase the memory of his muscles convulsing, tried to breathe and to focus on the present in the way his doctors had taught him. “But let’s just say, whatever was done to my head in Wakanda no longer makes me a ‘viable candidate’ for the old brainwashing routine. Once they knew I couldn’t be controlled, they beat me up the old-fashioned way, pumped me full of drugs—I think they were trying to recreate some old serum formula, but all it did was mess me up proper—and next thing I remember is being thrown in here with your darlin’ face hovering on the edge of my vision. I think a part of me was convinced I was still in Siberia.”</p>
<p>James was too private of a person these days to divulge this much under normal circumstances, but he had a suspicion Stark would appreciate both the information and the honesty.</p>
<p>By the looks of him, he’d understand too.</p>
<p>“That explains the state you were in then,” Stark said, in the same subdued tone to match James. “You really do look better, by the way,” he added, dark eyes once again sliding over. Curious. Searching for something. James took the scrutiny in stride, ignoring a silly urge to show off, just a little. “Your face isn’t bruised anymore, you’ve been awake, you’re talking. No more tremors.” Stark’s eyes zeroed in on the arm. “That hunk of metal’s still bothering you, though, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Shuri would resent that moniker very much.”</p>
<p>“Well, she never comes to visit me anymore, so that’s what she gets.”</p>
<p>Small world. James didn’t know Shuri visited Stark at all, but that was a question for much, much later. “The arm<em> is </em>a hunk of metal right now, unfortunately. Every time I move and it pulls on my shoulder, it’s agony. I swear Shuri put something in there to shut down nerve receptors when it’s damaged, but hell if I know, that part is probably broken too.” He shrugged with his good shoulder. “I’m pretty sure they took a damn hammer to it and kept hitting until everything went dead.”</p>
<p>Stark threw his head back and let out a pitiful whine. “God, such beautiful tech, so mistreated. Everything you just said makes me want to kill these bastards even more.” He chewed on his lip and scrunched up his nose—adorably, if James could admit such a frivolous thing in a place like this. “I mean, mistreating the guy attached to the arm, that’s super messed up too, but the tech, Barnes, the <em>tech.</em>”</p>
<p>Stark was outright teasing him now and it was still a little unbelievable, having him here, talking and joking and looking at James like… like he was just a man. Not a threat, not a killer, but a man on the same side as Stark.</p>
<p>It stretched the imagination, but James’ whole world had been filled with unbelievable things for a long time now. He took this in stride too.</p>
<p>“I see how it is,” he teased Stark right back. “Shiny tech first, boring human second. Honestly, I’m surprised Shuri <em>doesn’t</em> visit you more often. Like two peas in a pod, I swear—but trust me, I get it. I’ve got past, present, <em>and </em>future grudges to hold with these bastards. I’ve got no issue cracking some heads to get us out of here.”</p>
<p>“Music to my ears, Frosty, and between the two of us, we might just manage. We have to remember though, they’ll expect us to hate each other. We’ll have to play up the drama whenever anyone shows up because if they realize we’re <em>helping</em> each other—”</p>
<p>“They’ll find another hole to toss one of us into, yeah.”</p>
<p>“And we can’t let that happen.” Stark agreed, but then he hesitated. His hands curled into the edges of the blanket, pulling it tighter around him. “I also think it’s pretty obvious that right now, I need you a whole lot more than you need me. I know, I know,” he hurried to add even though James hadn’t said anything, “it’s a stupid thing to admit, but you’re not an idiot. I’m on the wrong side of forty here and my body stages a protest if I fall asleep on the <em>couch</em> the wrong way—and there’s nothing here for me to blow up and you’re over there made of muscle and bottled-up spite, so you can probably fight your way out just fine and I will just—try not to slow you down if I get to tag along.”</p>
<p>Stark looked away, which gave James the chance to study him without reciprocal scrutiny. The blue light of the arc reactor illuminated his face from below, casting strangely angled shadows, highlighting even further the toll this experience had taken on his body. Without his suit, without his tech, Stark looked so tired and so <em>small</em> in this godforsaken cell.</p>
<p>James knew this wasn’t a fair impression. No one was at their best kidnapped, captive, and starved and certainly he had no right to make judgments—nor to feel the sudden surge of protectiveness that rushed through him. The urge to snap someone’s neck, to make them pay for hurting them both, settled low and deep nonetheless, right next to the insistent need to get them out of here alive and get Stark home.</p>
<p>He kept these thoughts to himself and reminded his instincts not to be led astray, neither by Stark’s current appearances nor his self-deprecation nor James’ own boundless guilt. The last word anyone would ever use to describe Tony Stark would be ‘helpless’ and James was just fine having Stark on his side.</p>
<p>He made a show of scrutinizing Stark’s dejected slump. “Well, Mister Engineer, if you really wanna make yourself useful right now,” he said, tilting his head to the left, “I’ve got this whole broken mess right here for ya. Mind taking a look?”</p>
<p>The light that sparked to life in Stark’s eyes made James’ own grin stretch wider than it had in months.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“He’s still alive, I see.”</p>
<p>“What can I say? I don’t like getting my hands dirty. Isn’t that what I have you guys for? You know, you could at least gag the bastard. Here I am, stuck listening to him pontificating about truth, ideals, and the American way. I mean, there’s torture and then there is<em> torture</em>.”</p>
<p>Tony tried to fight down the urge to snort when Barnes threw a poisonous glare his way and followed it up with a pained groan when he shifted.</p>
<p>“Fuck you, Stark.”</p>
<p>“See the shit I put up with? Thank god he’s usually passed out. What did you guys do to him anyways?”</p>
<p>The Hydra operative <em>du jour </em>didn’t answer the question, just eyed them both in obvious scrutiny, but when Tony held that gaze with perfected ease, slipping on the mask of the asshole billionaire with a bomb where his heart used to be, the guy fell for it the same way everyone else did.</p>
<p>The wall-of-muscle and shit-for-brains shrugged and walked over to Barnes, who tried to move away, but he had nowhere to go with the wall at his back.</p>
<p>Tony forced himself not to give up his slouch, forced himself not to move—and he hated himself, down to his marrow, when the goon kicked Barnes right in the ribs and Tony didn’t so much as flinch. Barnes’ pained groan wasn’t fake this time and neither were the daggers he shot at the guard before curling up in a ball to protect himself.</p>
<p><em>Breathe through it</em>, Tony told both himself and Barnes, <em>breathe</em>.</p>
<p>The guard visits weren’t frequent, and at the end of this, they’d have food, so they had to keep it up just a little bit longer.</p>
<p>“Save us all the trouble, Stark,” the other guy said, eyeing Barnes with disgust. “Snuff him out while you still can. After all the trouble he’s caused us, the Boss would be thankful. Might even put you in her good graces.”</p>
<p>“Aw, come on, we all know I can do better than that.” Tony wiggled all of his fingers. “Tell her I’m very good with my hands. It’d be a shame to waste my talents on <em>him</em>.”</p>
<p>The goon snorted. “What do you take me for, an idiot?”</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, Tony thought, <em>a thousand times ‘yes’</em>. “Come on, give me something—or hell, let me go. Why the hell am I sitting here with <em>that</em>?” He threw Barnes the dirtiest look he could manage. “I could be anywhere else, doing literally anything else with my time.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Stark, we both know you’re not walking out of here until the Boss wants you to. Chances are, she’ll find some use for you eventually. I hear there’s quite the market for washed-up billionaires.” His smile was on the mocking side of sweet. “Scream real loud when this piece of shit—” He swung his boot into Barnes’ stomach one more time. “—finally kicks the bucket. I wanna be there to collect the body.”</p>
<p>With a laugh, he turned around and left, slamming the door hard enough to make the walls shake.</p>
<p>Tony didn’t move, not until Barnes sagged against the floor and nodded.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he’s far enough away now.”</p>
<p>“Thank fuckin’ god.” Tony scrambled on his hands and knees and helped Barnes sit up, careful not to touch the left arm. “Jesus Christ, are you alright?”</p>
<p>Barnes peeked at him with one eye, the other shut as he held his right arm against his stomach. “Yup, right as rain. Just—give me a second, yeah?”</p>
<p>Tony nodded and let Barnes gather himself and tried not to think too hard about the fact he was basically hugging the guy. He would’ve kept his hands to himself, but what if Barnes collapsed right back down without Tony’s support?</p>
<p>Better not chance it.</p>
<p>“If we don’t kick at least one Hydra goon right in the face when we get out of here,” Tony muttered, “I’m going to be very disappointed.”</p>
<p>“You an’ me both,” James said through gritted teeth, offering him a pained smile. He shifted more of his weight around—and against Tony—trying to find a more comfortable position and Tony held firm, trying to help, but it was also harder to concentrate with both of them in each others’ space like this.</p>
<p>Because good Christ, Barnes was warm. Tony hadn’t been warm since he’d been snatched off the street and Barnes’ body was a line of heat next to him and Tony had to fight the most ridiculous, childish urge to curl into him to absorb all that warmth for himself.</p>
<p>“Easy, easy,” Tony crooned, distracting himself by shifting his attention on something that actually warranted it. “How’s your arm? Did he touch it?”</p>
<p>Barnes shook his head. “Still hurts, but no more than before. Just got me in the rib is all.” With a determined inhale, he pulled away and sat upright on his own. “M’fine, Stark.” He tilted his chin at the tray. “Go get our five-course meal, would ya?”</p>
<p>Tony couldn’t help his own snort. At least someone other than him appreciated the need to make light of a crappy situation. When everything sucked, there was still snarky banter to fall back on. He went over to the door to examine their offerings.</p>
<p>“Mmm, gray slop and dry bread. I swear they dig this out of the trash just to spite us. At least there are vegetables.” Tony pointed out the also-grayish looking pile of green beans and corn on the corner of the tray.</p>
<p>“Fantastic,” Barnes drawled. He scooted back to use the wall as support and Tony grabbed both blankets as he went, using one to cushion himself as he sat next to Barnes, the other to wrap around his shoulders. The days were only getting colder and Tony had no super serum to keep him warm.</p>
<p>“Wow, they’re skimping even on the trash today, the stingy bastards.” Tony popped a green bean into his mouth and tried not to grimace. By rote practice, he tore a small piece of bread for himself and handed the rest of the tray to Barnes. “Here, eat up—oh, and keep those ears of yours peeled for footsteps. Don’t want them sneaking up on us after that fantastic performance and I wouldn’t want to explain why—”</p>
<p>“That’s not all you’re eating, right?”</p>
<p>Tony blinked and took a second to register Barnes’ question. “Hmm? What? No, I’m fine. Eat, you need the strength.” He swallowed the rest of his bread and ignored the ever-present hunger gnawing at his insides while he took a quick sip of the tepid water. “You’re still recovering and I’m pretty sure your caloric need is ten times mine. Trust me, I’ve been around your kind before. I swear, half the Avengers’ budget went to restocking the kitchen for super soldiers and demi-gods.”</p>
<p>Tony had gotten very good at ignoring his own body’s base needs and the basic tenets of self-preservation stated that<em> Barnes</em> should’ve just let this go and taken the food for himself.</p>
<p>However, it seemed Tony wasn’t the only one who struggled with self-preservation.</p>
<p>With an unreadable expression, Barnes put his own piece of bread back on the tray between them.</p>
<p>“You’ve been giving me most of your food, haven’t you? This is—this is how much they’ve been giving you every day. Barely enough for one man—and you’ve been eatingalmost none of it.”</p>
<p>“Barnes, it’s <em>fine</em>—I ate enough and—and you were <em>dying</em>, alright? The hell was I supposed to do? Just—Jesus Christ, just eat, okay? Stop looking at me like that.”</p>
<p>There were so many things to loathe about this situation, about this stupid cell, about the scum that kept them here, but mostly Tony was getting really tired of having no way to escape all these meaningful gazes. He thought about scooting away, but that required too much effort and it wouldn’t have saved him from Barnes’ stupid puppy dog eyes anyways.</p>
<p>“Stark,” Barnes said, putting so much damn meaning into Tony’s name—<em>too much</em>, because it made all sorts of things squirm uncomfortably in Tony’s chest and now he had to worry about his reactor going haywire too.</p>
<p>“What?” He tried to be firm, but the question just came out defensive and <em>tired</em>.</p>
<p>Barnes waited until Tony met his eyes—Tony did so only to avoid prolonging the awkward silence, he told himself, not because Barnes was pleading with Tony to engage.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Barnes then went and said like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You did what most people wouldn’t have and I just—thank you.”</p>
<p>“I needed you alive and coherent to get us out of here,” Tony retorted. He wanted to sound mean and indifferent too, but now he just sounded petulant. Apparently <em>nothing</em> was going his way.</p>
<p>“Right.” Barnes was clearly not impressed by Tony’s attempts to deflect, but he seemed to let the point go when he added, “Well, I am alive and coherent—because of you.” He nudged the tray closer to Tony. “Eat? Please? We’ll split it all down the middle. That way it’s fair.”</p>
<p>It really wasn’t, not with the vast differences in their physiologies—but it also wasn’t fair that it took Barnes no more than a literal <em>day</em> to pinpoint all of Tony’s weaknesses. Sitting over there, pleading with Tony in that soft voice of his and with those big blue eyes, all sincere and caring.</p>
<p>Bastard.</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered and shoved some vegetables into his mouth just to make Barnes <em>stop</em>. “Swear to god, you’re worse than Rhodey.”</p>
<p>Barnes looked far too smug for his own good as he picked at the vegetables until he gathered a handful of corn. “James Rhodes, right? You two go way back?”</p>
<p>“Met in college. Been best friends ever since.”</p>
<p>“Well then, I bet he’d want you back in one piece, wouldn’t he? So see, this is purely selfish on my part. Basic self-interest. I wouldn’t wanna bring ya to him half-starved. War Machine packs quite a punch, ya know.”</p>
<p>There really was no way for Tony to win here. “I can’t argue with that, I guess.” He tore another piece of the bread and shoved it into his mouth, pointedly ignoring the flicker of triumph on Barnes’ face. Tony wasn’t surrendering. He was just picking his battles. “You outta meet him after all this blows over. You two would get along like a house on fire.”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>The second bite of bread was just as stale as the first, but Tony powered through. “Yeah, why not?”</p>
<p>“That’s, uh, that’s not exactly an invitation I’d expect to get. Complicated history an’ all, you know?”</p>
<p>“What did I tell you before, Frosty? We’re starting with a clean slate here. No reason you can’t come by and say ‘hello’ after all this.”</p>
<p>Barnes let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. “Well, in that case, how can I say ‘no’? It’s actually funny, because for a while now, I’ve been thinking about… I mean… Never mind, it’s real silly.”</p>
<p>Barnes busied himself with a slow sip of water, but Tony wasn’t letting this go. Call it petty revenge.</p>
<p>“What? Come on, you can’t leave me hanging like that. Ain’t no secret in a crappy Hydra cell, Winter Wonder.”</p>
<p>Barnes shrugged self-consciously and Tony wondered whether he overstepped, but then Barnes smiled at him, all shy and bashful, in a way that was nothing like the specter of the Winter Soldier Tony had always harbored in his head.</p>
<p>So many paradigm shifts, and then one more when Barnes said, “I was actually hoping to apply to be part of the Avengers one day. Maybe. I don’t know. I do know it would’ve been unlikely, what with my history an’ all, and your team wouldn’t have let me within a mile radius of you, which is fair, but I’ve been keeping out of trouble, trying to clean up my act, so I just… thought about that sometimes. About the possibility.”</p>
<p>Tony couldn’t stop the surprise from showing up on his face. “Really?”</p>
<p>Barnes nodded. He pulled one knee closer to him and played with the bread in his hand, taking tiny bites between words. “No doubt there’s someone on your team keeping an eye out on me, so I’m sure you know I’ve been back in the States for a while.”</p>
<p>Tony did know. “You were on the first plane in as soon as the ink on the pardons went dry. I guess you missed home that much?”</p>
<p>“No, more like Steve and I had a big falling out and I was running away.”</p>
<p>That Tony didn’t know. “Trouble in paradise?” he joked and immediately regretted the words when Barnes’ eyes flashed, anger turning his features into the feared Winter Soldier of Tony’s imagination.</p>
<p>That vivid, sharp fire dissipated just as quickly however, leaving behind the more familiar weariness.</p>
<p>“Wasn’t much of a paradise to begin with—and before you ask, no, none of the ridiculous rumors are true. Whatever you’re thinking, take it from the source, there was <em>nothing</em> between Steve and me, even before the War.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.” Tony tried to sound appropriately apologetic, both because Barnes seemed genuinely upset and because it made it easier to ignore that awful, squirming bundle of <em>delight </em>inside him. Rejoicing in the fact that the Winter Soldier didn’t really belong to Steve probably made him a terrible person. Granted, that was only one thing in a long line of things that probably made him a terrible person.</p>
<p>“No, I’m sorry,” Barnes replied, contrite and oblivious to all of Tony’s selfish thoughts. “Call it a touchy subject. It’s just… We were childhood friends, yes, but that was it, and now—now he and the whole world expects us to be this fairy tale <em>something</em>, but hell, we’re not even the same men anymore.” He blew out a breath, his exhale trembling. “S’like trying to pretend a stranger is the most important person in the world to you. That’s what everyone seems to want, but after the adrenaline rush wore off, after I got some distance from all the shouting—look what he did for you, look how much he gave up, look how much he <em>loves</em> you—I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend.”</p>
<p>“No one should’ve expected you to, although I’m not surprised some people did.”</p>
<p>“I just didn’t want Steve to define my whole life. Everyone already saw me as nothing but an extension of him, something to <em>complete</em> him, and I had so little of James Barnes left in me to begin with. It was always either Hydra or Steve or something else, but never <em>me</em> in my head—so I tried to put some distance between us first. Not out of spite, not to hurt him, just to give myself time to think. I knew he and others would be upset, but I didn’t think they’d treat it as a betrayal, you know?”</p>
<p>Tony did know, actually. <em>Vividly</em>. He wouldn’t have said anything, determined not to dredge up that unsavory past, but his captivity and exhaustion and those sneakily earnest blue eyes that kept him distracted must’ve messed with his ability to keep a straight face.</p>
<p>Barnes took one good look at him and shook his head before dropping it back against the stone wall with a sigh. “God, what a stupid question. I’m sorry. Of course you know.”</p>
<p>“I know something about a lot of things, Snowflake. Doesn’t mean what you did was in any way unreasonable.”</p>
<p>“Maybe, but I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. Instead of letting me go, they pushed back, so I pushed away even harder and eventually, I just cut everyone off, dropped contact and disappeared. Tried to make a life for myself, even if it meant going at it alone.” Barnes shrugged. “The world’s a hell of a lot more expensive than I remember, so it hasn’t been a walk in the park, but I’ve been doing alright. Finally got to a point where I wasn’t just surviving day to day. I started thinking about the future, about <em>later</em>.”</p>
<p>“That’s… really, really good. No, I mean it,” Tony added when Barnes didn’t appear convinced. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve at least that much. And as for Steve and the others? They were just using you as a scapegoat. Easier to swallow their own mistakes when they have you around to blame. I’m sure my own name is still cursed to high heavens as well.”</p>
<p>“It was when I was still with ‘em.”</p>
<p>“Did you believe them?”</p>
<p>Tony realized his mouth had asked the question without his say-so, but he swallowed any attempt to backpedal. Sue him, but he was curious.</p>
<p>“Didn’t know what to believe,” Barnes replied cautiously. He looked Tony up and down, as if rediscovering him yet again. “So once I had the time, I took matters into my own hands and looked you up. Gotta say, the internet’s a nifty place.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, no,” Tony tried to joke, “the only people who hate me more than those wayward Avengers of yours are the internet mobs. I’m surprised you’re even talking to me.”</p>
<p>At least that got Barnes to smile. “I’ll admit, there are some interesting rumors flying around—you and Rhodes star in quite a few, let me say.”</p>
<p>“It’s all slander. Platypus is painfully straight.”</p>
<p>“And you?”</p>
<p>Barnes seemed more curious than judgmental and Tony was both too old and too tired to care. “Equal opportunity playboy philanthropist here.”</p>
<p>Barnes’ curiosity transformed into a languid, indulgent smile. “See, that’s another nice thing about the future. I can’t say I’ve had the chance to take a handsome fella out to dinner and dancin’ yet, but it’s nice to finally have that option.”</p>
<p>A lot of interesting tidbits left unsaid in that purposefully casual comment and Tony found himself with a dozen new questions about James Buchanan Barnes.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, <em>refreshingly</em>, none of them had anything to do with Steve Rogers.</p>
<p>Barnes went on, leaving those questions for another time. “Granted, the internet also believes I’m Steve’s soulmate, so I knew to take it all with a grain of salt. I tried to look past people’s opinions and looked at your actions instead.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to join the Avengers if I thought you were everything the others accused you of, would I? What I didn’t know was what you would’ve made of <em>me</em>. Thought you’d take one look at me and tell me to go to hell.”</p>
<p>“I think more than anything, I would’ve just been confused by the idea that you’d want to join us in the first place.” Tony tried to say that without judgment, but he couldn’t help the incredulity. Not because he thought Barnes wouldn’t be good enough, but because it took one paradigm shift after another for Tony to wholly absorb this, to see Barnes as someone with needs and desires other than those Tony had prescribed to Steve. Tony was self-aware enough to admit he was no better than the rest of the world in that regard, that these were his own issues to resolve and that in reality, Barnes had always been a man separate from Steve Rogers.</p>
<p>And now, even in this hellhole, in the worst possible circumstances, the more Tony learned about him without Steve’s shadow looming over them both, the more he wanted to know.</p>
<p>Because truth be told, he really liked what he saw.</p>
<p>Barnes turned all bashful again, a ridiculous look on a man his size who was covered in dried blood and grime. It was stupidly, unfairly adorable. “It’s silly, I know.”</p>
<p>“No, no, just—unexpected, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“I just… don’t feel like I fit in anywhere anymore. My education’s not worth a damn, I barely managed to scrape up enough documentation to keep me employed—and some of it may not be entirely legal, but don’t tell the government that—and maybe it’s selfish, but I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life doing the same thing, trying to survive just long enough to kick the bucket. You and the others, I know you don’t care for me, but at least you <em>know </em>me—who I am, what I am, what I’ve done—and maybe it would’ve given me a place to belong, somewhere I could be safe while also doing some good. I never expected to be out on the field on a bonafide team, of course.” Barnes laughed as if to assure Tony he had no such silly ambitions. “But even if I got stuck in the armory cleaning out everyone’s weapons every night or sweeping the floors, I would’ve been fine.”</p>
<p>Tony snuck the last mushy kernel of corn from the tray. “Come on now, you have got to aim higher, Frosty. As if we’d waste your considerable Winter Soldier talents like that. Please. <em>Senior</em> floor sweeper, at least.” Tony gave him a wink, to make sure Barnes didn’t take those words to heart. “Truthfully, we’re always woefully understaffed and we would never turn away honest help and if we—” He didn’t want to make promises, but what else could one do in a situation like this? “When you get out of here, Winter Wonder, here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna meet my Rhodey Bear, the two of you are going to go grab a beer, have a manly heart-to-heart and bond over fancy military records and badass guns and whatever else you decide to bond over and then he’s gonna get you a fast-pass through our application process—and room and board because I still have no idea how you’re affording rent in New York right now.”</p>
<p>“I’m not, mostly,” Barnes whispered, trying to laugh it off as nothing more than a quip, but Tony could see how much this meant to him. “If that is what’s waiting for me outside… then I’d really, really like to get us both the hell out of here.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a plan to me.”</p>
<p>Tony hoped his promises would stick long enough to make that plan come to life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pain disappeared as soon as something inside his arm made a <em>click</em> and James tried to swallow down a moan as his body embraced the absence of pain and sagged against the wall, the endorphins rushing in to flush through every nook and cranny of him, leaving behind nothing but momentary bliss.</p><p>He may have failed in holding back an indecent noise and to make matters worse, he may have followed it up with a breathy, “Jesus, <em>yes</em>, thank you.”</p><p>It was the sort of thing that would’ve taken on a whole new meaning in a different context, but James tried not to let his mind drift <em>there</em> and he definitely did not open his eyes to see Tony’s reaction to all of this. Those too-clever eyes saw too much and pierced too deep for their own good.</p><p>James wasn’t sure when Stark had become Tony in his head. Maybe it was when he realized this reckless man was driving himself closer to death just to keep James alive—when he had no reason to do so, not even a guarantee James wouldn’t take one look at him and kill him—or maybe it was when he watched Tony’s fitful sleep the other night, lips moving soundlessly in a nightmare, causing James to nearly vibrate out of his skin as he tried to keep his protective instincts contained.</p><p>Something changed within these four walls, something James couldn’t pinpoint, couldn’t articulate beyond the simple notion that he <em>trusted </em>Tony, and he didn’t waste time overthinking things beyond that.</p><p>“There, that should keep the pain from coming back.” Tony kept working, poking and prodding at the inside of James’ arm with nothing but his fingers.</p><p>The thing was dead now until Tony found a way to kickstart the circuitry. James let his head fall back and he breathed, enjoying the lack of pain in the meantime.</p><p>Relative lack of pain, of course, because he was still aching in all sorts of places simply from sitting on this damn concrete for hours and he dared not think about the abuse Tony’s unenhanced body was taking.</p><p>These aches were mere nuisances though and with a single click, Tony had managed to remove the true agony, one relentless and brutal enough to drive a man crazy, so who could blame James for feeling a <em>touch</em> euphoric in a moment like this?</p><p>He opened his eyes and saw Tony’s head studiously bent over his arm, tongue sticking out between his lips as he concentrated, moving delicate wires with the touch of an expert. No tools, no props, nothing but the moonlight streaming in through the window on one rare, clear night.</p><p>James couldn’t get his fill of the picture Tony painted and when he murmured, “Good god, I think I could kiss you for this,” he realized the euphoria may have actually fried his brain.</p><p>There was no visible fright nor disgust though. Tony just let out a delighted little sound—a little chortle that made his lips twitch—and continued rearranging the insides of James’ arm.</p><p>“No way, no how, soldier,” he said before glancing up to peek at James through his lashes and why haven’t James ever noticed how long and pretty they were? Honestly, all of Tony was so pretty, even with the dirt and the grime and the sallow, heavy lines of exhaustion and hunger that James wanted to erase more than anything else in the world. He was so pretty in fact that the rejection didn’t even sting.</p><p>Especially not when Tony grinned and added, “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against kissing very grateful super soldiers, but neither one of us had seen a damn toothbrush in weeks.”</p><p>“So what you’re saying is that once we’re outta here and my breath’s all nice and minty fresh…”</p><p>“Then you can buy me a drink, handsome, and we’ll see where it goes from there.” Tony’s eyes glinted in the moonlight. “Contrary to what you may have heard, I am not a cheap date.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second. Guys like you deserve to be treated real well. Maybe I’ll take you dancin’.”</p><p>“Wow, you really are out of it, aren’t you?” Tony let slip that small peal of laughter again. “Enjoy your endorphins while they last, Frosty. You certainly earned them.”</p><p>James hummed and closed his eyes again, letting himself float, letting his body use the excess energy to heal him further, make him stronger. He would need every ounce of strength for what was to come and he intended to use every bit of it to get them out.</p><p>He didn’t open his eyes until he heard the soft click of the maintenance panel. With his work completed, Tony patted the metal forearm, whispered a soft, “Get some rest, soldier,” and shuffled back to ‘his’ side of the cell, worming his way underneath the blankets. The night was clear, but cold, colder than any before it, and Tony struggled to get comfortable on the hard concrete that leeched every bit of warmth out of him.</p><p>James could only watch Tony shiver for a minute longer before he said, “Tony, c’mere.”</p><p>Two tired eyes opened back up to peer at him. “Hmm?”</p><p>James motioned for him with his good hand. “It’s freezing and it’s only gonna get worse closer to morning. So just… come here.”</p><p>Tony sat up slowly, the blanket pooling in his lap and exposing his thin frame. Trembling, tired, half-starved, but still so, so strong. So <em>stubborn</em>, James tacked on when Tony didn’t budge and the suspicion in that steely gaze <em>hurt</em>, but it was undermined by the general misery of it all and James had to remind himself that none of this was easy, for either of them.</p><p>“M’fine,” Tony finally said, only proving James’ point. “I was just joking, you know, about the whole drink thing, I wasn’t really—”</p><p>“Tony. Stop. Don’t do that.” It was deflection, pure and simple, words wrapped in barbs meant to push James away, but there was nowhere for him to go and even if he did have the freedom to walk away, James wouldn’t have been fooled so easily. Everyone always forgot one tiny detail. He was damn stubborn too. “It isn’t about that. Jesus, you don’t have to look at me twice after this is all over, but right now—I’m sitting here, wasting energy, wasting <em>heat</em>, while you’re freezing. Call this whatever you want, but as far as I see it, it’s basic math. I’m running too damn hot, you’re freezing cold. Put two and two together.”</p><p>It wasn’t about the proximity, wasn’t about the small spark of something James could now feel between them. No, in the end, in a place like this, it was about vulnerability, about the sheer terror of accepting the fact that you were<em> desperate</em>. James would’ve rejected such a helping hand too, in the beginning, if he weren’t so out of it each time Tony had hand-fed him and soothed him back into sleep with soft words.</p><p>Tony still didn’t budge, but James had nothing but time in here, nothing but patience. So he didn’t push again, didn’t plead; he just sat there and waited, ready for whenever Tony decided to tear down one of his walls.</p><p>It took less time than he expected. Tony scooted over with jerky movements, then proceeded to shove pointy limbs around with a hint of spite before plastering himself to James’ side and his smaller body felt like a bucket of ice water.</p><p>James swallowed every noise that wanted to escape, but it was still a lot, both the cold and just <em>Tony</em>, all of him pressed up against James, arms curled into James’ chest to hide them between their bodies, cold nose pressed into the crook of his neck.</p><p>When Tony stopped moving and grumbling, about <em>coercion</em> and <em>rude super soldiers</em> and their <em>dumb logic</em>, James adjusted the blankets Tony dragged along with him, wrapped his good arm around his shoulders and held him as tightly as he could manage.</p><p>They spent a good minute like that, with James cataloguing every ounce of the tension running through Tony’s body. He counted the bricks in the ceiling, counted the cracks dotting the walls, and waited.</p><p>The wind howled outside and right on cue, Tony shivered and curled into James’ body, closer to whatever warmth it wanted to steal.</p><p>James would’ve given it all away if he could.</p><p>He would’ve let them both get their much-needed rest, but before sleep fully claimed either one of them, it was Tony who grumbled a muffled, “I’m sorry,” into James’ chest.</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“I don’t know, for being a jerk, I guess. I’m just… not at my best right now, as you can imagine. Can we blame whatever shitty things I have said or will say on the severe caffeine withdrawals?”</p><p>“Sounds like a decent excuse. I’d kill for a cup of coffee right now.”</p><p>“Literally, I hope.”</p><p>James let himself laugh and kept himself still while Tony rearranged himself yet again. He didn’t move further away though.</p><p>“You know what I want when we get out of here?” he mumbled, that cold nose burrowed into James’ sweatshirt once more.</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“I want a vacation. Not just a hot shower and a meal and a shave, not a weekend off, no. A whole damn vacation. Somewhere sandy and hot where we can have a whole beach to ourselves, fruity drinks that make your head spin and sunshine for days. We’ll go scuba-diving, rock climbing, eat till we pop and then, once we’re properly tired, we’ll lay on the hot sand until we turn into lobsters.”</p><p>“Well, that sounds just about perfect, doesn’t it?” James whispered, watching his breath coalesce into fog. There was something a little bit frightening about Tony speaking about them as a unit like that, as a <em>pair</em>. Scary, but in that peculiar way that made James only want <em>more</em> and he let himself dream, trying to picture white sand and an endless expanse of blue, the way the sun would feel on his face, the way the heat would dance along the planes of his body, warming him up from head to toe. The way Tony’s body would look stretched across that sand, happy and healthy and as pleased as a cat.</p><p>He tucked that thought away for later, but when he realized he began brushing his thumb back and forth over Tony’s arm, he didn’t force himself to stop.</p><p>“Can’t say I remember the last time I was at the beach though.”</p><p>“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Tony’s words were slurring now, the heat already lulling him into sleep, and it wasn’t surprising Tony was out soon after because despite James’ best efforts, Tony still grew thinner and weaker, no super serum to compensate for the hunger, no cheat to get him through this ordeal.</p><p>James wiped away the images of those tantalizing, <em>selfish</em> fantasies and decided to put the sleepless hours ahead to good use. After all, he had a daring escape to plan.</p>
<hr/><p>Tony knew why his mind kept drifting, why he had trouble focusing on the task at hand. His stomach didn’t rumble quite as much anymore, tired of making the same demands Tony couldn’t satisfy.</p><p>James—who would’ve snuck into first-name basis on that charm alone, but was also the one positive, real thing in this hellhole—tried to make sure Tony ate, meticulously splitting their meager rations in half—and cheating by always giving Tony a little bit more—but it just wasn’t enough and while James’ super soldier serum kept him healthy enough now with that pittance of calories, Tony kept growing weaker and weaker with each passing day.</p><p>And then the meals slowed, then stuttered to a stop. One per day first, then two days missed, and they haven’t heard any activity outside other than an occasional shuffle of footsteps or two.</p><p>The lack of food was bad enough, but the lack of water was worse. The clock was ticking. Either this band of Hydra rejects found other buyers who were willing to take Iron Man and the Winter Soldier off their hands, or they were about to call it quits, cut their losses, and write off the two liabilities currently sitting in one of their cells.</p><p>If they didn’t act now, the opportunity to do so might never come again. If they were separated, they were screwed. If someone decided they weren’t worth the trouble, they were dead.</p><p>Other than the dead left arm, James appeared as healthy as he could be and had said he could manage a few more days without crashing from over-exertion.</p><p>Tony was in a different boat though. His body was exhausted, his mind was slipping into a state of lethargy, and to top it all off, he managed to catch a lovely infection that was starting to turn his lungs into Swiss cheese.</p><p>He <em>was</em> turning into a liability.</p><p>“Hey. Tony?”</p><p>Tony blinked. He spaced out again, he realized, and he tried to force his focus back on the metal arm in his lap, but there was a soft tap of knuckles against his chin. He followed the gentle pressure until he looked up.</p><p>“You alright?” James asked, but he knew the answer perfectly well.</p><p>“Peachy keen, Snowflake,” Tony said anyways. James brushed his hand over Tony’s scruffy cheek and Tony was too tired for pretenses, so he let his eyes fall shut, just for a second, as he leaned into the touch.</p><p>“Next time they bring anything over, you’re eating all of it, alright? You gotta stay strong for me just a little bit longer, doll.”</p><p>Tony nodded. <em>Doll. </em>Well, that was very sweet. James was too damn sweet for his own good.</p><p>He forced his eyelids to move, tried to force the rest of his body to cooperate.</p><p>Another painful cough that crawled up his throat did the work for him, making his whole body shudder and seize as he coughed into his elbow.</p><p>“Sorry,” he croaked, once he was able to speak, “just—tired, that’s all.”</p><p>“I know. That cough of yours worries me though. Do you want to take a break? I can keep watch for a while.”</p><p>Tony shook his head, then took another shallow breath that made his lungs rattle. “No, it’s fine, we need to finish this arm of yours. I’m almost done anyways. Rewiring things with no tools ain’t easy.” He tried to give James an easy smile, but already James figured out a way to see right through Tony’s bullshit.</p><p>Funny how some people spent years failing to acquire that particular skill.</p><p>“Do you think you could get it to work again?” James asked him, tapping the arm. “Would be real nice, just in case I have to break that door down myself. Sure, it looks impressive, but I’d still put my money on the Vibranium.”</p><p>“Yeah, I can definitely get it to work.” Tony <em>needed</em> to get it to work. “At this point, it just needs a jump-start and you’ll be breaking down doors and punching Hydra goons in no time.”</p><p>James smiled openly. “I knew you were the man for the job.”</p><p>Tony resisted the urge to tap his nervous fingers against the reactor, keeping them firmly inside the cavity of the arm. He sure <em>was </em>the man for the job. He was the one with the convenient power source embedded in his chest.</p><p>He shifted a wire and pushed another one closer, two connectors clicking into place. It wasn’t his best work, not by a long shot, but it was enough to make the arm operational.</p><p>James would be able to protect himself and fight his way out. He’d be alright.</p><p>With a careful touch, Tony closed the maintenance panel. “I’ll have to use the reactor to give it the power it needs, but let’s do that tomorrow, when we’re ready. If that’s alright?”</p><p>“Of course.” James frowned, worried eyes scanning Tony up and down again. “Will it hurt, connecting your reactor to the arm like that?”</p><p>“No, not at all.” Tony shook his head and smiled. “Won’t hurt a bit.”</p><p><em>It’ll just stop my heart for a little while</em>, he didn’t say. <em>Just for a moment.</em></p><p>James opened his other arm and Tony didn’t bother reprimanding himself for how eagerly he crawled over James’ sprawled legs to curl up against him, tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder, ignoring how natural this all felt. James’ shirt was dirty, caked with grime and sweat and god knows what else, but their awful state barely phased Tony at this point.</p><p>A tender hand began carding through his greasy hair and it was so, so tempting to let himself drift again, to fall asleep, to pretend <em>things would be alright</em>.</p><p>“Get some rest, okay?” James whispered to him. “I need you at your best. I promise we’ll get outta here—and then it’ll be nothing but sandy beaches and warm waters and whatever else your darlin’ little heart desires. I distinctly remember you promising to take me to a great burger place, so maybe we’ll start there.”</p><p>Tony could just picture it too. A world back to normal, a new beginning for both of them, an excuse to indulge as a way to make up for this whole ordeal.</p><p>A few weeks ago, these thoughts would’ve been preposterous. Imagining a vacation with the Winter Soldier—and<em> loving </em>the idea of it—would’ve boggled the mind, but it was too late to turn back to that time. Tony had so many preconceptions then and there were so many barriers placed between them by others, but it all tumbled down when they were stripped down to their bare bones and had nowhere to hide. Now Tony’s curiosity had been peaked. Now he wanted to know what James liked, what James thought, how he looked when he smiled and laughed, what made him grow quiet and pensive. Tony wanted to learn the intricacies of the man holding him so easily now, was itching to figure him out outside of these walls, in a world where they could both enjoy themselves again. Enjoy each other.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>In some perfect world.</p><p>The realization he might not have the chance to do that hurt more than Tony expected.</p><p>Another coughing fit fought its way out, stomach muscles spasming as Tony’s body tried to expel whatever it was fighting against. James held him, brushing his hair back, muttering nonsense to soothe him while Tony tried to wave away the concern.</p><p>He didn’t want to think about everything else he’d be losing too. His family, his friends, his legacy. So much unfinished business.</p><p>He didn’t want to <em>die</em>, but he also knew he wasn’t going to magically get better. If they couldn’t contact anyone, if they were too far away from civilization, if he stumbled down a flight of damn stairs and gave some Hydra goon enough time to shoot him in the back…</p><p>The possibilities of things going wrong were starting to add up and although Tony had been here before, had faced incalculable odds as he blasted his way into freedom, stumbled his way into an endless desert and <em>walked</em>…</p><p>Back then, he walked out of that cave alone. This time, he had a chance to save someone else.</p><p>He trembled, genuinely scared. James brought him closer, trying to cover as much of Tony as he could with the blankets and his own body, probably thinking he was just cold.</p><p>Tony let go of the dark thoughts for the night. There was still hope, he told himself, but even as his lids grew too heavy, even as he began to slip into dreamless sleep, he could hear the countdown of an end growing closer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you sure you’ll be alright? That thing keeps you alive, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p>“I told you, I’ll be right as rain. This puppy has enough power to light up this whole place <em>and</em> half of Manhattan.”</p>
<p>Tony wondered if James could see through the brittle smile plastered on his face, through the white lie meant to make this all easier.</p>
<p>The reactor had plenty of power, that much was true, but with the precarious state of Tony’s lungs and the general malaise brought on by starvation and dehydration, taking the reactor out for any period of time would only accelerate Tony’s decline.</p>
<p>At this point though, bringing the arm back to life took priority. Without it, all James had was a dead weight slowing him down.</p>
<p>“Alright, you ready?”</p>
<p>James nodded, cautious but eager, and Tony swallowed a whimper when he pulled out the reactor and his heart lurched in his chest. The breathlessness was instant and the ache in his left arm would come soon enough, but he ignored it all in favor of the arm in his lap and the wires threaded through his fingers.</p>
<p>The metal thumb was the one to twitch first. One finger, then another, then all five, and then it took no more than a minute before the reactor pumped enough energy into the arm for it to come alive top to bottom.</p>
<p>“My god, you did it. I can actually feel it—and the pain didn’t come back. I can’t believe that worked.” James flexed his fingers and grinned, almost boyish in his joy. “You’re amazing.”</p>
<p>“Don’t ever doubt my genius, Frosty.”</p>
<p>Pain flared again, somewhere deeper this time. Probably something essential, Tony mused with a detached curiosity, starting to fail. He unhooked the reactor with trembling fingers and let James help him shove it back inside his numb chest.</p>
<hr/>
<p>They waited one more excruciating day. Without food and water, they couldn’t afford anything more—<em>Tony</em> couldn’t afford it—but as much as James hated waiting, attempting to break down the door would announce their escape to the entire base, so it had to be their last resort.</p>
<p>Thankfully, their captors had always been running a slim operation and they’ve either gotten lax or distracted by other matters—or both—because their next visitor was one harried guard with a cup of water and three slices of bread.</p>
<p>James heard him approach and hid in the shadows, counting out each step as the guard closed the distance, and had this been one of<em> his</em> operations—<em>before</em>, with his scrambled head and his Hydra-infected priorities—he would’ve been embarrassed by the ease with which he was able to take down the guard.</p>
<p>These worthless goons seemed to have forgotten the Winter Soldier was forged in this sort of hellhole. He didn’t regret it today, even when he forced himself to ignore the way Tony flinched at the brutal sound of a neck snapping. There’d be time, later, for James to prove he wasn’t that monster anymore, that he wasn’t a threat—to anyone who didn’t have Hydra stamped across their forehead.</p>
<p>James donned the guard’s uniform, ill-fitting, too small, but salvageable, and nicked two guns out of their holsters. He planned to serve as the primary line of defense, the brute force to clear their path, with Tony needing only to follow—but Tony still demanded one of the guns, which James handed over without hesitation.</p>
<p>Yes, it was a sheer miracle of stubborn willpower that Tony was even standing upright and James would carry him if he had to, but if Tony said he could still point and shoot, that was good enough.</p>
<p>So he concentrated on remembering the twists and turns of this place. The map in his head was incomplete, one they cobbled together in the dark of night through shared memories and educated guesses, but he’d worked with less before. He needed to move through the shadows, make as little noise as possible, take out only those necessary to pave their way to freedom—and then, when they were close enough to the exit, he planned to abandon all matters of stealth and plow through the final obstacles, keeping Tony at his back and protected at all costs.</p>
<p>James could survive a bullet or two, but Tony could not.</p>
<p>He shot another guard straight through the temple and watched him crumble. No mercy, no pity, only a utilitarian once-over to decide if there was something he could pilfer from the quickly dying body.</p>
<p>This time they took the bulletproof vest to keep Tony’s core safe. It looked too bulky on his skinny frame and it fed James’ protective rage even further, but he channeled it into refining his every move even further, letting himself turn back into a trained, perfected killer.</p>
<p>He would not allow room for mistakes today.</p>
<hr/>
<p>There were more guards around the corner and one even managed a cry of surprise before James silenced him with a quick twist of his neck.</p>
<p>It was brutal, but Tony had to admire the efficiency. He followed two steps behind, kept himself plastered to the wall and out of the way until the path was cleared.</p>
<p>He hated to admit it, but the running part was a struggle. <em>Breathing</em> was a struggle, but he clung to the gun in his hand, ready and willing to shoot all these bastards right in the face—</p>
<p>The familiar flickering of old monitors caught his eye.</p>
<p>“Hey, wait!” Tony hissed and James turned around, clearly ready for another threat to break with his bare hands, but Tony pointed to a light coming through a sliver between two giant crates blocking the way into another corridor. He motioned at a half-opened door barely visible through the small space. “Look. Panels, maps—there’s a topographical layout—it’s gotta be a control room and it’s not very well-staffed by the looks of it. We could figure out where we are, where we should be heading.”</p>
<p>James looked like he wanted to argue about the detour, but he followed without a protest when Tony darted ahead, around the crates, hoping to find a way into the room. James got ahead of him just in time to descend on the occupants like the specter of death and this time, the sickening crunch of cartilage hardly phased Tony. He paid the three guards who dropped to the floor no mind, too busy absorbing every detail his eyes could reach.</p>
<p>The control room was ancient—‘Soviet Union in its hay-day’ ancient—but maps were maps no matter the decade and Tony’s frantic study ended at the small red dot on the washed-out screen.</p>
<p>“Damn it,” James whispered behind him, echoing the same sentiment bouncing through Tony’s head on a loop. “Where the hell are we? There’s nothing but—”</p>
<p>“Mountains and forests. We’re in the middle of goddamn nowhere.” Tony dragged his palm over thick glass. There was the base, the red dot, and then <em>nothing</em> for miles and miles. No hint at civilization, not even a small town to break up the monotony, no roads to point them in the right direction. There were probably unmarked paths Hydra used to get in and out, but finding them now would be its own challenge.</p>
<p>Tony wasn’t surprised. There were plenty of places like this in the country, expanses of land stretched out in every direction, deserted and barely marked, and if they were somehow taken overseas, the odds of finding their way home grew exponentially smaller…</p>
<p>“This isn’t going to work,” Tony said and realized he already made the decision he didn’t know he needed to make.</p>
<p>James made a noise of disagreement behind him, but Tony’s mind was already ten steps ahead and he darted towards another control panel, fingers flying over the keyboard, thoughts tumbling one over the other.</p>
<p>“I could overload their systems—scramble every signal I can, crash every program—and if I hook up what’s left of the reactor, I could send this whole place sky-high and—”</p>
<p>“Tony, what the hell are you talking about? We don’t have time, we need to go!”</p>
<p>James grasped Tony’s wrist, tugging on it to get him to turn away from the controls and turn around and he made that noise again—it was <em>despair</em>, Tony finally identified—but no matter how much it hurt, how scared he refused to let himself be in this moment, Tony just shook his head.</p>
<p>“We both knew this was going to be a long-shot, that we’d need to get real lucky.”</p>
<p>And his luck had to run out at some point, right?</p>
<p>“Tony, no, we can—we can get out and—”</p>
<p>“And we’re in the middle of nowhere. We were both hoping that wouldn’t be the case and maybe if I were a little stronger… But I’m not doing so good these days. I can barely stand. I can’t breathe. There’s a good chance my heart will give out within the hour if we keep doing this.” Tony managed a tired smile and slid his hand out of James’ grasp, but only for a moment, before he turned to face James and laced their fingers together. “It’s okay.”</p>
<p>“Damn it, Tony, no, it’s not. Don’t do this. I’ll carry you all the way to a damn hospital if I have to, I don’t care how far—”</p>
<p>“If we leave any of these bastards alive, they’re going to follow. They’re going to hunt us down and we won’t know here to run. Even if we manage to avoid Hydra, it might take us days to find help. I won’t make it that long.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that,” James all but begged now. His fingers tightened around Tony’s, pulling him in a closer. “Don’t you dare give up. <em>Please</em> don’t give up.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Logically, James knew they had no time for this conversation, that at any moment a group of armed guards would burst through that door and attack, but he found time stretching and turning into molasses as the rest of the world sunk into white noise around him. He was stuck, his limbs frozen solid and all of him <em>numb</em>.</p>
<p>How could Tony smile at him like that? How could he just <em>smile</em> and tell James to leave him behind?</p>
<p>“Let me do something useful,” Tony said. “Let me help you make it out of here alive.”</p>
<p>“This isn’t fair,” James croaked, unable to hide the betrayal from his trembling voice. “Tony, damn it, let me try to <em>save</em> you.”</p>
<p>Tony had the audacity to smile again, softly, like he was trying to let James down easy. “I’m a liability. I always knew there was a chance it would end this way. Sure, I hoped my lungs would hang on for another day or two, hoped to find help faster, but now… I’m so tired and I don’t want—”</p>
<p>“Tony, stop. Stop telling me you were planning to die.” Tony’s hand felt so cold and so fragile in his own. He could feel it trembling. James stepped closer and dropped all pretenses, cradling Tony’s face with his metal hand and letting their foreheads touch, hating that he felt the sallow skin and the protrusion of bones beneath the Vibranium. “Damn it, Tony, you shouldn’t have—you should’ve just let me <em>die</em>, I’m not worth all this,” he whispered and realized what stung so much were the damn <em>tears</em> in his eyes. “You should taken all the food, you should’ve focused on yourself, and you should’ve gotten the hell out of here while you—you were still strong enough to—”</p>
<p>“James, stop. Don’t do that. I have no regrets.”</p>
<p>Tony’s hand gave his another squeeze and James realized it was the first time Tony had used his first name instead of some terribly cliché nickname. It felt too much like a goodbye.</p>
<p>“Tony…”</p>
<p>“You’ll be fine. Okay? You’ll be just fine. Go to the Avengers, go to Rhodey, tell him what happened. Tell him… tell him I should’ve ridden with him to that damn summit too. He’ll know what it means.” Voices erupted outside, startling them both out of their tiny bubble. Somewhere, a door rattled violently. “Now, please, go.”</p>
<p>“Tony—”</p>
<p>“Just <em>go</em>.”</p>
<p>With a surprising amount of force, Tony pulled out of James’ grasp and turned to grip the edge of the control panel. His arms trembled as he heaved a breath.</p>
<p>“Go, please. I don’t want you to die, I don’t want both of us to die. I’m <em>sorry</em>,” he said when he looked at James again. “Believe it or not, I know what you feel right now, but it’s going to be alright. You deserve a second chance and I’m—I’m glad it was you here with me. Thank you, James.”</p>
<p>Tony didn’t wait for a reply. He threw himself back into the work, hands flying across keyboards and buttons, forcing old screens to back life. Alarms began to blare, clicks and whines made by reluctant tech, and Tony took another shuddering breath before digging his fingers into the edge of his reactor, as if he’d already forgotten about James—</p>
<p>James turned around and ran, disappearing into the shadows again until everything around him turned pitch black.</p>
<p>The edge of this ancient compound couldn’t have been far and with Tony wreaking havoc, there was no doubt James would be able to make it out alive.</p>
<p>He stopped when the ground beneath his feet started to shake.</p>
<p>There were voices everywhere, shouting orders and screaming in the ensuing chaos, the noise flooding his senses, but standing in the middle of it all, James went ignored, all but invisible in the dark.</p>
<p>Tony was right. One dead man was better than two. The math worked, the logic made sense, and more than anything, this was Tony choosing his destiny, choosing to use his last moments to do real damage to the monsters who were responsible for all of this.</p>
<p>Tony was right and freedom was so very close, but James still found himself unable to move.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was never a good idea to let a clever and delirious engineer with an axe to grind too close to some ancient tech.</p>
<p>Hydra knew this, of course, which was why they kept him squirreled away in a dark hole with nothing useful in sight for weeks, but he supposed they didn’t expect a fully recovered Winter Soldier to clear the path for said engineer all the way to this convenient little control room.</p>
<p>The dead men on the ground didn’t expect said Winter Soldier either.</p>
<p>The first explosion that rocked the base was downright satisfying and already Tony could hear people shouting and scrambling in a way that was distinctly less orderly.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good. Feel what it’s like to panic, you bastards. You won’t have much longer to appreciate it.</em>
</p>
<p>The ancient software that ran these programs began to glitch out with a few strategic lines of code. Things began to throw out constant streams of errors, anything remotely connected to an electrical outlet began to overheat and explode.</p>
<p>A second explosion came from the basement and while wasn’t enough to bring the building down—not yet—it would serve as a sufficient distraction to lead their enemies away from James.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It only took minutes for Hydra to find Tony, but they were not quick enough to stop him from initiating the grande finale by dumping the reactor’s remaining power into the core of the system. Energy spread, spread, and spread until everything was flashing red, alarms blaring and error warnings screaming that there was no turning back. </p>
<p>Tony smiled up at his captors, pleased to see the woman from before—Lyudmila—in the room as well, surrounded by frantic, faceless guards.</p>
<p>Their gazes locked across the room and Tony was certain he made one hell of a sorry picture, sprawled on the floor as he was, gasping for air, sweaty and dirty and weak, with a fist-sized hole in his chest. His own internal systems were blaring their hopeless alarms as they failed too, but he could still give her one last patented Tony Stark grin.</p>
<p>He found he had no more strength to protest however when one of the Hydra agents wrenched him up by his forearm like a rag doll. Something made a distinct snap, but Tony’s shout of pain was swallowed up by the static flooding his ears.</p>
<p>Thankfully, his body struggled to process that pain. His blinks became slower, lids heavier. His field of vision darkened and grew narrower around all the commotion, the panic, the people trying to put the systems back in order.</p>
<p>Idiots. Tony didn’t do something as elegant as hack the system. No, he just irreparably broke everything he could reach.</p>
<p>Someone shouted right in his face and it must’ve been threatening, but Tony couldn’t register a single word, although he wished he could tell the guy his breath stunk to high heavens.</p>
<p>They dropped him back to the floor like old trash, and Tony laid in a heap, unresponsive. Nothing else to do but to enjoy the fireworks.</p>
<p>Maybe it was fate, he mused while the breath in his chest rattled. None of this was fair, but perhaps it was poetic and when Tony looked past his own selfishness and his own desire to live, maybe it would also be<em> just</em>.</p>
<p>He walked out of a cave once before because another man sacrificed his life.</p>
<p>Now things would finally come full circle.</p>
<p>His chapped lips twitched into one final smile. He always knew he’d go out with a bang and he could only hope James would make it out okay.</p>
<p>He would, Tony assured himself. James was smart and capable, strong enough to fight his way through and pragmatic enough to know this was his best chance.</p>
<p>Black began to swallow up his whole world and Tony’s remaining stray thoughts dissolved into fog as his heart crawled to a stop. His last conscious thought was one of an odd curiosity when the not-so-lovely Lyudmila’s face twisted in horror above him, her body contorted unnaturally, and then she dropped straight to the floor as well, a dark shadow of death looming over them both.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The explosion was a brilliant, blinding blue, surging upwards and out, leveling the center of the base to rubble one minute and turning the rest of it into flaming chaos the next.</p>
<p>Somewhere, a thousand miles away, a tracker desperately searching for one particular energy signature flared to life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I figured, the story's all written, no reason to torture you all with that cliffhanger for another day. To all my long-time readers, consider this recompense for all the cliffhangers that took <s>years</s> weeks to resolve. ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was always the smell of antiseptic that gave it away first.</p><p>The stuff had the most peculiar way of burning your nostrils and the familiar beep of a heart monitor always followed the unpleasant singe.</p><p>
  <em>Beep beep beep.</em>
</p><p>Pain was usually second and maybe there was something poetic about that too, that it was always pain that let you know you were still alive.</p><p>Tony tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were crusted up, his eyes dry, and the rest of his body just as stubborn and uncooperative. He was nothing if not persistent though; he kept trying and eventually the world began to reveal itself as his eyes adjusted to the lights turned down low.</p><p>It took another moment for his brain to catch up and he groaned, trying to test his surroundings with an outstretched hand—</p><p>“Hey, hey, easy, old man. You’re alright.”</p><p>There were hands on him and that voice—</p><p>
  <em>Rhodey.</em>
</p><p>That voice had to be the best thing in the whole damn world, Tony decided with giddy, delirious relief and his eyes finally focused enough to <em>see</em> Rhodey, the proof of him sitting right there by the hospital bed.</p><p>Tony didn’t dare take his eyes off him as he slid the oxygen mask off his face with a clumsy hand.</p><p>“Who you calling an old man, Platypus?” he rasped, barely audible; he went for the quippy, irreverent route, because some things never had to change, but when Rhodey just looked at him, his expression split between weariness and abject relief, something in Tony broke too, his own relief flooding him to the point of pain and it may have been the tiny sob that escaped him that tipped Rhodey off, or it may have been his pitiful look, or the general wobble of his unsteady spine, or maybe just the sixth sense Rhodey had about these things.</p><p>It didn’t matter because in the end when Tony reached for him, Rhodey was right there, gathering him up into a careful embrace.</p><p>Memories echoed, sand and sun and the deafening wind, but they didn’t linger today.</p><p>Tony’s arms snaked around Rhodey, clung to him best they could, and in turn, he found himself smooshed into Rhodey’s shoulder in a proper hug and Tony allowed it only because Rhodey’s shoulder was just as comfortable as he had remembered and it smelled of the same cologne Rhodey had used since MIT.</p><p>Certainly not because Tony was attempting to smother any more pesky sobs—but maybe that was a lie too.</p><p>Maybe some part of him did want to break down in tears because for all his bravado and heroism and willingness to go down in flames, he didn’t actually want to die. It was probably selfish that he was so relieved to be here now, but he didn’t want things to end in that hellhole, starved and humiliated, surrounded by his enemies, never knowing if any of it was worth it, if James had even managed to—</p><p>“James!” he wheezed and pushed himself away from Rhodey in panic, his body flailing in his struggle to move. “James, where—is he—”</p><p>“He’s fine,” Rhodey said as he clutched Tony’s shoulders and held him still. He caught Tony’s eye and he added, “He’s here, he’s safe, now stop flailing. You’ve got a broken wrist, your ribs are all bruised, and half of your internal organs are hanging onto you by the grace of God alone.”</p><p>
  <em>Here. Safe.</em>
</p><p>Tony’s whole body slumped, the momentary spark of fight draining out of him just as quickly as it had appeared, and it was just as well that Rhodey was holding him up because Tony was certain he’d collapse right back down into a pile of jelly-filled limbs otherwise. “Okay, okay, yeah, that’s good.”</p><p>Burrowing back into Rhodey’s shoulder was tempting—and the offer of it was right there too, calling out to Tony’s still-tired body—but now Tony had <em>questions</em>. He studied his best friend’s face, the way those brown eyes softened, the way Rhodey’s lips twitched when the scrutiny became obvious. It was probably the bright fluorescents of the hospital room, but Tony thought there were a few new lines etched into Rhodey’s face.</p><p>“Sorry,” he whispered, guilt worming its way back up, as it always did. “About worrying you.”</p><p>Rhodey just shook his head. “Don’t do that. Trust me, I’m mad—and you’re not allowed to go alone anywhere ever again or so help me God—but none of this is on you.” His mouth twisted, pulling down on those new lines. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anyone left to blame either, on the account of you blowing up all the bad guys and leaving none for me.”</p><p>Tony frowned. Huh. His little reactor bomb. A tiny detail that happened to slip his addled mind, but now everything began to come back and he found himself intensely curious. “Okay, I gotta ask, but what the hell happened? How am I even here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled, but I really thought that’d be my final show.”</p><p>“Well, let’s just say it’s been a few stressful weeks.”</p><p>Tony snorted. “Preaching to the choir here,” he quipped, trying to laugh it off, but a painful cough interrupted whatever else he was going to say and Rhodey left his side in a hurry to grab a cup of water. He brought it carefully to Tony’s lips, tipped it, and held it there even though Tony was pretty sure he could manage not spilling the water all over himself. He only had one broken wrist, thank you very much.</p><p>Still, this was one of those rare times he wasn’t about to complain about being babied. For Rhodey’s sake, really.</p><p>Rhodey put the cup back and helped Tony settle back into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him, adjusting the collar of the hospital gown, fiddling with the IVs and the painkillers. <em>Fussing.</em> Tony didn’t so much as make a contrary peep. Instead, he watched, indulgent and only a little bit overwhelmed, drinking in every detail of his best friend.</p><p>
  <em>Here. Safe.</em>
</p><p>Rhodey dragged the chair back over and settled in by the end of the bed, kicking an ankle over his knees to get comfortable. “So, one day you just up and disappeared and we—we had nothing. Friday didn’t have any information other than the coffee shop where you disappeared, there was no ransom demand, no messages, not even a taunt to humiliate us. Nothing. Radio silence.”</p><p>“Yeah, as far as we figured, the bad guys sort of stumbled into me—or me into them, I don’t know—and then they realized they didn’t have much use for a cranky engineer who could blow them up if he got too close to a screwdriver. I think they knew if they demanded ransom, they were going to bring the Avengers down on their heads, so they were looking to pass me off into more nefarious hands for a pretty penny instead.”</p><p>“Right, which was probably lucky because that kept you in mostly one piece, but it also made it impossible to find you.”</p><p>“How did you?”</p><p>“It was Friday, actually. When you disappeared, she set up trackers for—well, <em>everything</em>. Facial recognition, fingerprints, bioelectrical signatures—and the arc reactor, of course, which is what triggered first.”</p><p>Tony’s ‘oh’ came with a realization. “When my bomb went off. Huh.” He grinned, inordinately proud. “That’s my baby girl. So where the hell were we? Were we just outside the city?”</p><p>“No, try seven state lines over.”</p><p>“How—wait, no, I would’ve been dead if that were the case. You’re fast, Platypus, but I’m pretty sure my heart stopped even before that whole base went <em>kaboom</em>.”</p><p>Rhodey cocked a brow and he looked so damn smug that Tony didn’t know whether he wanted to hug him or smack him.</p><p>“You forgot we have wizards on staff now, didn’t you?”</p><p>Tony didn’t, in fact. “Okay, but in my defense, Strange had literally said to me—and I quote—‘I will stand by and let you die a fiery death, Stark, if it means getting a discount at the local Starbucks.’”</p><p>Rhodey had the good graces to act amused by Tony’s exaggeration and it was endearing enough that Tony decided the smacking could wait until he had two functional wrists.</p><p>“Well, what can I say?” Rhodey shrugged. “I went in there, guns blazing, said if he didn’t magic me a portal as soon as I had a location, I’d punch him in his pretty face.”</p><p>“And we all know how much Stephen loves his pretty face. Damn it, he’s gonna be so smug now, thinking I owe him a million favors—I mean, I do, obviously, but it’s the principle of the matter.”</p><p>Rhodey’s smile dimmed despite Tony’s teasing. “In all seriousness, he did all he could. I know he and the Sanctum have been reticent to use their magic for anything other than the end of the world, but when the alert went out that you were missing, it was Strange who approached me. Told me he wouldn’t be able to find you—go figure, he can manipulate time and space, but apparently locator spells aren’t a thing—but he said to let him know if he could help when we found you.”</p><p>“Wow,” Tony said and he even meant it this time, no sarcasm attached. Sure, they were on the same side, but Stephen Strange had never been coy about his feelings on the rest of the Avengers. They were either a necessary evil in the fight against actual evil or a nuisance akin to a buzzing fly when Stephen was feeling especially peckish. “Guess I’m still useful for something in his mysterious Sorcerer Supreme schemes. I feel like I need a minute—you know, to let my worldview shift and resettle.”</p><p>“Speaking of flipping over worldviews… You wanna tell me a little bit about you and<em> James</em>?” When Tony grimaced and looked away, ready to go on the defensive, Rhodey eased back on the scrutiny. “I’m not here to judge, I’m not here to hound anyone. Hell, he’s been living in the empty quarters next to Peter’s, he’s not a problem, but you know, color me curious. There I was, flying through a magical portal, ready to be a hero and save your sorry ass—and I almost got shot for my troubles by a feral Winter Soldier looming protectively over your unconscious body.”</p><p>Tony’s hackles went down, but the description of the events he would never remember made him feel way too much all the same and he didn’t know whether he wanted to smile or to cry or to scream.</p><p>“Do you know how he got me out?” he asked, instead of answering any of Rhodey’s unspoken questions.</p><p>Rhodey indulged him at least. “According to him, he got half-way to the exit, decided he didn’t feel like letting you be a self-sacrificing idiot, and turned back around to get you. Said he got to the control room just as you were passing out. Killed every goon in the place into some adrenaline-induced rage, including the big boss, threw your heavy ass over his shoulder, and ran for it. Got as far as he could before the explosion knocked you both down. Had some very unfortunate burns all up and down his back, half out of his mind with the effort of getting away when I arrived, and he still had the wherewithal to attack <em>me</em>—until he realized we were the good guys, at least.”</p><p>Okay, now Tony <em>definitely</em> wanted to cry. His stomach squirmed with more and more guilt, layers of it all piled up high. “Is he alright?”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s healing up fine. That super serum sure is something. He’s still a little too quiet for my tastes, too twitchy, but he’s got food, he’s got meds, he’s got a nice cushy bed to sleep it all off in. He’s looking a lot better than you, old man.”</p><p>“Good, that’s—good.” Tony didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what to do with the ball of thorns still stuck in his throat. James… Damn him, for going back when Tony had told him to go, for putting himself at risk all over again for that infinitesimal chance of getting them both out alive.</p><p>They could’ve both <em>died </em>instead, taken out by a Hydra goon with too much luck, by the explosion Tony set to go off, by a stray bullet fired in the chaos.</p><p>James shouldn’t have gone back, but here, on the other side of it all, Tony couldn’t muster an ounce of anger. He looked at Rhodey and knew Rhodey could follow Tony’s scattered thoughts without a single word passing between them.</p><p>“Every gray hair I have,” Rhodey said and pointed at his head, “I have because of you. I hate this and I hate knowing you’re the type of guy to throw yourself on the wire to give someone else a chance. I hate it, but I know <em>you</em> and I know that won’t change. I’m not sure I’d want it to. It’s who you are and I get it. Hell, if I were in your position, I would’ve done the same. If the odds are shitty, take out as many of your enemies as you can and go out in a blaze, show them you’re still the one calling the shots, down to your last breath. I get it. I respect it. I just—want you safe and alive, damn it. That’s all.”</p><p>Tony could see the truth of it just beneath Rhodey’s words, beneath the curve of his otherwise-warm smile. Rhodey knew Tony well enough to know reprimands wouldn’t work, that telling Tony not to do it again wouldn’t work either.</p><p>They couldn’t change who they were at their core. Tony didn’t <em>want </em>to die—not with so much still left to fix, to improve, to protect—and despite the events of the past year and the private hurts still weighing him down, he had hope for the future.</p><p>Rhodey knew that and Tony in turn knew how lucky he was to be here now, his body slowly healing, the weight of a new reactor in his chest, Rhodey’s warm hand on his ankle, comforting Tony in the same way it had since Tony was a dumb teenage boy.</p><p>There was definitely a sting in Tony’s eyes now and he furtively wiped away a little bit of the moisture, trying to cover it up as a scratch of his now too-full beard, but the act was a rote motion at best. There was no need to hide, at least not from Rhodey.</p><p>“Thank you for finding me. Again.”</p><p>“Always, Tones. You know I’ll always come get you.”</p><p>Rhodey allowed them both a moment of peace to let the overflow of emotions settle back down, but eventually, when Tony met Rhodey’s eyes again, there was a sparkle there and a hint of mischief.</p><p>“I forgot to mention,” Rhodey said, faux-casual and almost grinning, “but we do have another house guest visiting you and your new <em>friend</em>.”</p><p>“Oh god, no, if it’s Rogers—”</p><p>“No, no, trust me, it’s not. When I suggested Rogers to Barnes—call it a misplaced sense of pity, I dunno—Barnes about ran for the door himself. No, no, the Princess of Wakanda herself has graced us with her presence. Sans the King and his entourage though. Apparently the kingdom is very busy these days.”</p><p>“Oh my god.” Tony guffawed, glad they were past all the emotional stuff and back to <em>this</em>. “Okay, so when I make the invites, no one bothers to visit, but when it’s <em>James</em>—oh, I see how it is, this is blatant favoritism. This is James and his stupid puppy dog eyes. Those damn things are more dangerous than any weapon in his repertoire.”</p><p>“And they worked on you too, didn’t they?”</p><p>Tony squinted at Rhodey. “Don’t you even start.”</p><p>“I’m not starting anything. I’m just saying…”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“If you two elope next week—”</p><p>“I’m warning you.”</p><p>“—I am not getting you a wedding gift.”</p><p>Tony held the glare for another two very deliberate seconds. “…But what if we elope in three weeks instead?”</p><p>“You might get a toaster.”</p><p>They both held out for another second before succumbing to laughter. All of this was a little absurd and so, so welcome. It was so good to be home.</p><p>“Trust me, there are no plans to elope. No plans for anything, really. We just…” Tony hesitated, unsure he could even describe what he and James were. “We found common ground, that’s all. A lot of common ground, most of which had nothing to do with being kidnapped and stuck in a cell.”</p><p>“Did it have something to do with a pair of pretty blue eyes and dashing good looks instead? Come on, Tones, I know you loved watching those old Captain America reels when you were a teenager and it definitely wasn’t Rogers you were watching so avidly and sure, last year was a disaster and there’s history and <em>drama</em>, but now you know Barnes is this<em> great guy </em>and—”</p><p>Tony shoved at Rhodey’s arm with his foot just to be contrary and he scowled when Rhodey just scooted the chair back and continued to cackle like a damn menace.</p><p>“This is why I didn’t ride with you to the meeting, Platypus. You are the <em>worst</em>.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, blame me for this whole mess. At least you’ll be happy to know our newly acquired super soldier is already half-way to smitten with you—I don’t know why, you’re kind of a disaster and you’re not even that cute—”</p><p>“I am the cutest thing here, excuse you.”</p><p>“—so I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Did you know he just about bit my arm off when I tried to take you from him back at that base, even <em>after</em> he realized we were the good guys? So rude. And now he’s conspiring with half of the Compound on the issue of how best to<em> take care</em> <em>of you</em> while you recover, you poor, precious thing.”</p><p>“Oh, god. He <em>is</em> a mother hen. It’s a character flaw.”</p><p>“Mm-hmm. Also, he kinda went and <em>apologized</em> to me, which was just all sorts of awkward.”</p><p>“Yeah, he does that too.”</p><p>“I don’t want any part of that, he can keep those puppy dog eyes stuck on you. Your questionable taste in men aside though,” Rhodey added, letting the teasing tone drop for a second again, “he does seem like a decent guy. A fact that surprised the hell out of me, but I suppose I was pretty biased.”</p><p>“I think we all were,” Tony said with a huff, and wasn’t that the truth? “Nothing like a good kidnapping to set us all straight, huh?”</p><p>“Personally, I would’ve preferred the two of you finding another way to reconcile—you know, something <em>safe</em>, maybe a charming little diner somewhere, the two of you making googly eyes and spilling your shared drama over a cup of coffee and toast—but I suppose kidnappings and dramatic self-sacrifices are a close second, sure.”</p><p>Tony fiddled with the blanket bunched up in his lap. He really wanted to keep up the snark, but the questions kept nagging him and he tried to find a way to make this next one not sound too needy. “He’s really still here then?”</p><p>“Yup. Probably still asleep in his quarters—it’s early and he’s been doing a lot of sleeping since he arrived. Healing up, I suppose. Didn’t seem to hesitate when I offered the room and board either, said he wanted to stay, to make sure you were alright. Do you want to see him once he’s up and about?”</p><p>Tony appreciated that Rhodey had asked the question at all—he could still see the hints of caution beneath all the teasing, a healthy caution Tony couldn’t begrudge Rhodey given the circumstances—and although he <em>did</em> want to see James, so much, the actual answer was simple. “No, not yet. I just… need some time to wrap my head around everything. I do hope you hooligans have been <em>nice</em> to him though—and I am glad Shuri is here,” he added, both because it was true and because he desperately needed a subject change. “The arm was a mess and I’m sure I didn’t help matters.”</p><p>“No, you did not. Shuri’s very upset with you after what you did to her tech.”</p><p>Tony shook his head while exaggerating his pout. “Well, that’s just not fair either. Now I’ll never win the princess’ favor—and after all that work I’ve put in trying to charm her.”</p><p>“Eh, I don’t think you have to worry about that either. She’s got Peter, Harley, and Barnes following her around like ducklings and she keeps saying she’s here to expand her collection of sad white boys, and man, by the looks of you…” Rhodey gave Tony a once-over and grinned. “You’re definitely next on her list.”</p><p>Laughing still hurt, because every part of him still hurt, but Tony decided it had also never felt this good to laugh either. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“Nah. Everyone knows I’m <em>your</em> sad white boy,” he said and with laughter still shaking his frame, with hints of happy tears still stinging his eyes, he let himself get his fill of simply being<em> alright </em>again. The sight of his best friend, the sensation and safety of home. The knowledge that James was still here, willing to stay, willing to wait for Tony just a little bit longer.</p><p>They kept up the banter, switching between catching up on the details of the last few weeks and talking about nothing at all, and Tony let himself rest while his world righted itself once again.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And here's the final chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony couldn’t complain about having the chance to observe James from a distance, even though he knew the super soldier hearing would’ve tipped James off to his presence.</p><p>James was in the family room with Shuri and Tony’s own favorite hooligans, the three kids having an animate discussion full of techno babble, overeager explanations, and one-upmanship.</p><p>It felt a lot like home and Tony knew he was smiling like a damn fool just watching them chatter away.</p><p>James didn’t participate, but he seemed content lounging in the love seat, relaxed and attentive as he watched the kids parry back and forth too, and it struck Tony somewhere deep, like a punch in the gut, how much James looked like he belonged here.</p><p>The second thing Tony noticed was just how well James cleaned up too. A shower and proper meals would’ve agreed with anyone, but James all but transformed. Clean-shaven, his hair trimmed and neatly arranged to frame that gorgeous face, the sallow lines and the haunted looks gone.</p><p>He was dressed down in a tight t-shirt and jeans and the gold lines of his left arm gleamed, all of it immaculate again and carrying no hints of the damage that had been done.</p><p>When their eyes met across the room, James’ face softened and those vivid, bright eyes—striking even from a distance—lingered, pinning Tony in place. He had to resist the urge to fidget.</p><p>He’d stayed away for a full two weeks, recovering, letting himself process everything that happened, letting himself accept that he’d escaped death yet again. Thankfully, there wasn’t much time to dwell as a parade of visitors kept him busy and he knew James was doing just fine too. Rhodey himself passed on the message that Tony could take as much time as he needed. James would still be here whenever Tony decided he was ready.</p><p>Tony knew it was time when he started to feel more antsy than anything. For god’s sake, they were in the same building and they hadn’t seen each other yet and it shouldn’t have been this difficult to just say ‘hello’—but Tony kept putting it off, kept trying to rehearse their reintroductions, what he would say, how he would act. How James would act.</p><p>Because that was the thing - Tony and James had never actually existed in the same space without either being enemies—or rather, two men pushed too far too quickly—or being in a life-or-death situation where they needed each other above all else.</p><p>Tony thought the intensity of everything he had felt about James would fade in the relative safety of home, but even though his feelings had simmered down, they did not disappear and he still found himself in a strange new world where he wanted to get to know this man properly.</p><p>He wanted to know so much and he wanted the world to give them that chance.</p><p>More than anything though, he just wanted to take James out to dinner, some hole-in-the-wall diner where he could fill them both up on burgers and fries while they talked about anything and everything—anything but their past and their hurts and all the stupid bullshit Tony wanted to leave behind. Forever, if he had any say in it.</p><p>It didn’t take more than a minute for the kids to catch on and follow James’ gaze back to Tony. Peter and Harley were both on their feet and at his side in an instant.</p><p>“How are you feeling, Mr. Stark? Is your hand doing better? What about your ribs? Have you been eating those protein bars Aunt May made for you?”</p><p>“It’s about time, old man, I was planning a rescue operation to drag you out of your bed.”</p><p>“I’m doing fine, Peter, thank you—and you, you hooligan, learn to respect your elders.” He dragged Harley close to press a kiss to his wild mop of hair, grinning when Harley kept himself still for all of two seconds before squirming away. Peter was next and far more content with his hug, clinging to Tony even harder than Tony was holding onto him.</p><p>When Peter finally released him, Tony greeted their guest next. “Princess Shuri, always good to see you. I wish it were under different circumstances, but I’m still glad you’re here.”</p><p>“Likewise. I’m happy to see you are recovering swiftly.” She stood up to shake his good hand. “Although, much like my brother, you seem to get yourself into trouble on regular occasion, which makes it difficult to schedule a leisurely visit.”</p><p>“Sounds like you just need to visit more often then—oh, and drag your brother along with you, he needs a break from his kingly duties.”</p><p>“On that, I agree completely. His idea of ‘funny’ was filling my weeks here with diplomatic work and consulate visits. I would much rather spend my time in a lab.”</p><p>“I think you’ll find only sympathetic ears here.”</p><p>Peter jumped in with an excited retelling of the improvements she had made to the Black Panther suit and of course, she replied by declaring there were<em> more</em> improvements yet to be made. Tony could see the science fest taking off from a mile away and he panicked briefly, wondering how he would stop it—there were important conversations to be had, preferably without nosy teenagers around—but in the end, it was Harley who came to his rescue.</p><p>For all his snark, Harley had always been the more perceptive one. Ever the older brother.</p><p>“Alright, I’m bored, so how about we go get some food and leave the old men to it? Shuri, you’re not leaving until we find something for you to fall in love with—and I know just the place. Best pizza in the state, let’s go.”</p><p>He shooed them away and threw a wink over his shoulder, mouthing a cheeky, “Good luck!” at Tony before ushering the two out of the room—and probably into one of Tony’s fancy cars for a fun drive. He had to remind himself they were all licensed now—barely—and they didn’t need a designated driver in the front seat.</p><p>He spent an extra second watching them leave, postponing everything for just one more moment, but finally he gathered the courage to turn around and look at James properly, watch him as he stood up from his seat and walked over.</p><p>“Hey,” Tony said and immediately hated how lame that sounded. After <em>everything</em>, shouldn’t this be more grand, more meaningful? “You look good,” he added and he didn’t hate himself quite as much, if only because that was enough to make James smile.</p><p>No surprise that the smile looked even better when James wasn’t covered in grime and blood, half-exhausted and out of his mind with pain.</p><p>“You too,” James replied, clearly just as awkward as Tony, but before Tony could manage something more eloquent, he found himself swept up in a hug and he didn’t realize how desperately he needed exactly that until he acknowledged he was clinging to James too, shaking and hiding his face in the crook of James’ shoulder where it fit just as well as it had on those freezing nights in that cell.</p><p>“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Tony mumbled, feeling so stupid for being the one to say it—he was the one who almost died—but it was true. Everything he did would’ve been worthless had James not come out of this alive. He closed his eyes and gave himself a generous second to simply <em>be</em> in James’ embrace. “So glad you’re here,” he added and that was true too, but far more terrifying to say.</p><p>James pressed his cheek into the crown of Tony’s head where Tony felt a trembling sigh ruffle his hair. “Of course I’d be here. God, I would never—” James didn’t finish, instead adding in a soft whisper, “I’m so happy you’re alright too,” before he let Tony go.</p><p>The room felt chillier than it had any right to be without James’ warm frame pressed against him—but maybe it was just Tony’s body instinctively reaching out for the same warmth that had kept him alive.</p><p>At least James didn’t go very far as he brushed a hand over Tony’s cheek, eyes darting up and down, side to side, studying him. Tony let him, content in getting to see James as well, so close now he could drink in the details, the little scars and the tiny hint of stubble, strands of soft hair and those damn, piercing eyes.</p><p>“I hope you know that I was planning to be far more upset with you than I am now,” James said and he tried to scowl, but it kept getting ruined by that adorable soft look in his eyes. “I was so, so angry—god, Tony, you shouldn’t have done that, not for me, not after everything—”</p><p>“James.”</p><p>James closed his eyes, like the name alone was too much, and he pressed his forehead against Tony’s, cradling Tony’s face in both hands, and the intimacy of it all didn’t feel strange, not even here, not even when they were back to their normal lives.</p><p>It still felt right, just like it did in that control room when they were both saying goodbye.</p><p>“You idiot,” James hissed, but the way he clung to Tony spoke volumes, “how could you do that to me? Making me walk out of there alone?”</p><p>“I wanted you to walk out of there <em>alive</em>.”</p><p>James shook his head, jostling Tony along with him. “I couldn’t do it. I shouldn’t have left you at all. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be—since it probably doesn’t surprise you I was a little angry to find out you risked your life coming back for me when I explicitly told you to <em>go</em>.”</p><p>The sound James made sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “So we’re both idiots then. Guess that’s only fair. We’re both still alive though and it feels like a waste, being angry.”</p><p>“I know,” Tony repeated, voice dropping to a whisper. They both did what they thought was right. Not out of spite, not to be contrary, but simply because they both wanted to save the other. “We’re here now. It’s okay.”</p><p>James hugged him again, held him like their lives depended on it, and didn’t let go until they both stopped shaking.</p><p>At least Tony’s eyes were blessedly dry when they separated. “Anyways,” he said, trying to steer them both into safer waters. “Sorry it took so long for me to make my grand reappearance. I was… coping.”</p><p>“S’alright,” James said and his own voice was still a little too rough to be considered normal. “I told you, I’d be here. Plus, I needed some time to recover too and I had plenty of company in the meantime—and a good three days were spent with Shuri fixing my arm while she cursed Hydra to high heavens. Your name came up too, although I was sure to defend your honor.”</p><p>“My knight in shining armor,” Tony teased. “I hope you emphasized I had nothing but my hands to work with. Well, that, and a reactor. Not the most elegant of solutions, so, you know…” He stopped, not wanting to bring up anything that happened, but unlike Rhodey, James didn’t bother keeping the thoughts on that to himself.</p><p>“I hate that you did that—and I hate finding out from others that taking out the reactor like that could’ve <em>killed</em> you—but it doesn’t mean I’m not grateful. For everything. You’re the reason I’m still alive and it’s not just the reactor. You could’ve made things so much easier on yourself, but you fed me the food that would’ve kept you stronger, you kept me sane in there, you…”</p><p>“You did the same for me.” Tony couldn’t articulate it any better, couldn’t explain that James kept him from falling into despair and giving up in the first place. Tony had always operated best when there was someone else he could help, someone else whose life depended on him.</p><p>Seemed James was the same way too.</p><p>“Thank you,” Tony added, “for being just as bad of an idiot and coming back for me.”</p><p>James nodded. He didn’t say anything else though and with the dramatic declarations over, there was suddenly empty, awkward space between them.</p><p>“So,” James finally said, the hesitance in his voice filling that strange void, “where do we go from here?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose we keep getting better, we recover, and then… I guess we can always go back to our normal lives?” After all, there was never a shortage of things to do and James… Well, in reality, they barely knew each other beyond the broad strokes and what if James had other things he wanted to get back to now, a life completely independent from the weeks he spent stuck in a cell with Tony? “There’s always work to be done and I’m sure you have lots to catch up on too.”</p><p>“I suppose…” The wrinkle between James’ brows grew. “I’d have to make nice with the landlord again, I’m sure she won’t be happy I missed a payment. Let’s hope being kidnapped is a good enough excuse, right?”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>These words though, they didn’t feel like enough and Tony watched as something began crumbling apart before it even had a chance to <em>be</em>—and no matter how terrifying it was to let the rest of his walls drop, to put his heart on the line once again, he didn’t want to let this chance slip through his fingers.</p><p>He was alive for a reason, damn it.</p><p>“Or you could just stay. Here. With us.” When James went still and his eyes widened, Tony hurried to add, “You said you wanted to be an Avenger, right? No better time than now. Pretty sure ‘rescued everyone’s favorite dumbass’ will look really good on your resume and Rhodey’s so grateful, he won’t make you go through all the training, so, you know, if you still wanted to—or maybe if you were thinking about—”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Tony blinked. “What?”</p><p>“Yes. To everything. Please.” James looked so hopeful and Tony’s chest seized all over again, his own fear and hope tumbling through him. He wanted this so badly, he realized.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>James nodded jerkily. “Yes. I swear I’ll make myself useful, whatever it is—doesn’t have to be anything big, really, I—I spent two weeks here and already I don’t want to go back to my cold, empty apartment—and I don’t want to leave <em>you</em>. Not after everything. I just—need to see that you’re okay. Even if it’s just for a little bit?”</p><p>Somehow, James was still braver than Tony could ever manage to be, voicing everything Tony so desperately wanted.</p><p>“You can stay for as long as you want,” Tony said, straight and to the point, ready to break out the banners and the party hats to welcome James home, but his heart dropped a little when James’ smile dimmed and his eyes dropped to the floor.</p><p>“What about everything else though?” James whispered. “Our history, everything that happened—Tony, I can apologize to you and the others a thousand times over, but nothing I do can change what happened, what I did and—”</p><p>“I told you, we leave it behind,” Tony said and he knew he still meant every word. Even in the bright light of day, back in the normal cadence of life, the words still felt right. “We leave it behind in some dirty, godforsaken Hydra bunker and we move forward. I don’t want to keep clinging to all that baggage. What happened with my parents—I’ve let that go, I’ve moved on and I’ve forgiven you, even before all this happened. And everything else? Don’t forget, I’m responsible too, I’m not some innocent victim—” He swallowed back the guilt and the regrets and forced himself to follow his own advice. “We both made mistakes. We both more than paid for them.”</p><p>“Yes, we have.”</p><p>“So let’s just move on. Let’s start fresh, again, without the dirt and the grime and the people eager to screw us over. I just… want to get to know <em>you</em>.”</p>
<hr/><p>The way Tony looked up at him, his words earnest, no platitudes, no lies that James could detect… It took his breath away and James would blame Tony later for his inability to string together anything more eloquent than, “I’d like that. So much.”</p><p>Still, that was enough to earn him that big, bright smile again, the one that transformed Tony’s whole face and lit up the room. Forget all the practical reasons for James to stay here—a roof over his head, protection from enemies, good company and a future to work towards—James couldn’t imagine forcing himself to leave that smile behind.</p><p>He came too close to that already, had carried Tony’s lifeless body out of that base, used his own body to protect him from the blast—and remembered how the searing heat was no worse than having to hold Tony’s body and feel <em>nothing</em>—no heartbeat, no breath.</p><p>He thought that would be the end, that he’d gone back for a corpse; the maps hadn’t lied, they <em>were</em> in the middle of nowhere and no matter how strong James was, he wouldn’t have been able to get Tony to a hospital in time. He would try anyways, he knew he would die trying, but he had no hope left and there was no joy in watching that thrice-damned bunker burn up in flames…</p><p>He was still curled over Tony’s body, sinking into the agony of his grief, his heart breaking in two, when the air before them shimmered, twisted, and space itself bent in on itself. James readied himself for another fight, determined to do whatever it took to protect Tony’s body, to get him home to his family if nothing else—</p><p>He had fragmented, fever-dream memories of almost shooting War Machine right in the face as the man came through the portal. All James could see at first was just another <em>threat</em> and it took a long, tense minute and several people trying to explain it all at once before James realized they were all there to <em>help</em>.</p><p>He hadn’t known magical space-bending portals even existed before that moment, but he didn’t care to question the details, didn’t bother overthinking the fact it was <em>magic</em> that allowed them to get Tony to a proper hospital from one heartbeat to the next.</p><p>Everything else after that was a blur.</p><p>James couldn’t remember how he got to a hospital room and who treated his wounds; he didn’t remember where he was hours later when Rhodes asked him a thousand questions James dutifully answered. He didn’t remember who handed him a hot meal and a drink.</p><p>He did remember asking Rhodes about Tony, if he was alright, if he was<em> alive</em>—and he remembered with vivid clarity how his knees nearly buckled with relief when the words, “He’ll be fine, he’s gonna make it,” filtered through the white noise.</p><p>He may have choked on a sob in that moment, may have babbled some grateful nonsense. He couldn’t remember, but whatever his display of vulnerability, he knew Rhodes was an honorable enough man to let it stay between those four walls. Rhodes’ suspicious glares went away after that too, replaced by sympathy and more kindness than James knew what to do with.</p><p>This wasn’t how he imagined he’d be welcomed into the Avengers Compound, not a scenario that came up even in his wildest, most indulgent dreams. It all worked out in the end, he supposed, although he would’ve preferred his ridiculous fantasies if only because Tony wouldn’t have gotten hurt.</p><p>But Tony was alright now and even though they spent these last few weeks apart, it felt like no time had passed between them at all.</p><p><em>Stay</em>, Tony had told him. <em>I want to get to know you.</em></p><p>It was everything James wanted, had thought about, would’ve outright begged for if given the chance.</p><p>He wanted a new beginning and a life that meant something again. He wanted to do good—and from a purely selfish perspective, he realized he wanted to do it all right here, at Tony’s side.</p><p>“So you’ll stay?” Tony asked, as if James would ever give him another answer.</p><p>“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” James teased and was rewarded with a light in Tony’s eyes, the crinkles at the corners pulling his expression into a teasing grin. It was intoxicating.</p><p>“Keep an eye on me? Really? Says the same guy who also got snatched up by B-rated villains.”</p><p>“Trust me, I’d keep a much better eye on you.”</p><p>That light turned mischievous as Tony took a step closer. “Oh. Is that so, soldier?”</p><p>He looked good like this, James decided. So, so good. Healthier too, the passing weeks starting to fill in the sharp edges left behind by starvation, and James found himself unable to look away. He wanted to drink in every detail, wanted to be here to see Tony get even better.</p><p>He wanted… more than he deserved, most likely, but no one could ever accuse him of being so selfless as to let this one perfect chance go in favor of self-flagellation.</p><p>After all, didn’t Tony just say to leave it all behind?</p><p>James let his hand settle on Tony’s hip and waited for Tony to shake him off, but he did no such thing.</p><p>“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” James said, feeling bolder with each second Tony remained close, with each slow, easy blink, and that beautiful curve of his smile. “Ever since you fixed up my arm in that cell.”</p><p>It was like stepping off a cliff, but in the best possible way, because Tony came closer too and curled his good hand into the front of James’ shirt, trailing the other up to rest on his shoulder. “Remind me what that was, would you?”</p><p>James leaned in and let his nose bump against Tony’s. He was vibrating with nerves. “I was hoping… I wanted to—”</p><p>“James,” Tony whispered, and the way he kept saying James’ name like that made him shiver again. “Just kiss me already,” he ordered and James didn’t know who surged forward first, but their lips met in the middle, a desperate press at first, too rough, too uncoordinated, too needy—</p><p>Until James took control and softened it all, let himself cradle Tony’s face with one hand, keeping him steady with the other, cognizant of every inch of Tony’s still-healing body. He swallowed a gasp and an exhale, savored each soft press of their lips, the scratch of Tony’s now immaculate facial hair, the scent of him, fresh and sweet and addicting.</p><p>James wanted to keep kissing Tony forever, just like this—but there were probably words to be said and feelings to be examined and lives to be rearranged.</p><p>When Tony pulled away though and when he licked his lips and made James’ brain short-circuit, James had to wonder if it was better to save all that talking for later, when he could string together more than a half dozen words at a time.</p><p>“Was that—” He swallowed and tried to memorize the way Tony tasted and wanting to taste him again. “Was that alright?”</p><p>“Perfect,” Tony all but purred and kissed him again, just a peck on the lips, but it still made James’ head spin. “Minty fresh and so perfect. Sorry I had to make you wait for it, handsome.”</p><p>“It was definitely worth the wait.”</p><p>The heated look Tony gave him sent tingles down his spine and made his toes curl—and that was before Tony nuzzled against James’ cheek then looked up at him through those ridiculous lashes and said, “Let me take you to dinner?”</p><p>“Right now?”</p><p>“Sure. I mean, let’s be real honest here, what I <em>really</em> want to do is drag you back to my room—or onto my private jet for that vacation we wanted—but I’ve been told I come on too strong and I should practice being more subtle and taking it slow and this is really, really important to me, so…. Dinner first and we’ll go from there?”</p><p>From where James was standing, with Tony pressed up against him, a hand curled into the collar of his shirt, those brown eyes eager and earnest and waiting for him to choose their next step… Tony’s room sounded perfect, that vacation sounded perfect, and hell, James wasn’t one for subtlety either…</p><p>“Dinner sounds wonderful,” he said anyways because they had time now. They were both alive, together, and despite all the hurt, despite how they got here, James was lucky enough to watch Tony’s face light up, have another kiss stolen from him, and feel a warm hand slip into his to pull him forward, into their new beginning.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoyed this fic! 💜💜</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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